Lovingly Heartless
by MissMei92
Summary: Set in Victorian England,Suzette Langley mingles with the aristocracy and gentry alike everyday,being the daughter of an aristocrat.Her life is predetermined and boringly monotonous.That is,until she dances with the most handsome newcomer to society.
1. Chapter 1: Monotony

_A/N:Hey! I promised a new story, didn't I? So, hear it is! It should get better in the next chapter and I apologize for the shortness. Okay,read the story! - _**MissMei92**

* * *

"Suzette! Suzette!" My shallow-minded elder sister, Rita, stormed into my room, her thick-heeled boots stamping on the floor in a fury. I don't know why she wore those things. She claimed they were the latest fashion, though I think she was sadly mistaken.

"What is it now, Rita?" I was busy writing a letter to Lady Hawning, regarding the latter's invitation to attend her eldest son's engagement party, and I was trying to find the best possible way of saying no to it. Thomas Dayston would be there and I didn't want to get into any form of confrontation. Especially after I'd rejected his marriage proposal last month.

"Oh, Suzette! You wouldn't believe this but I've heard that the ball at Count Gristenor's might be...God forbid it...canceled! All because of some silly rain!" She gestured towards my left and lifted a finger to point at the glass-panes beside my mahogany desk.

The dark clouds which were looming outside my bedroom window signaled the start of rain. Would that affect anyone? Could bad weather possibly stop the ball being held in Count Gristenor's estate tonight? Unlikely, of course. The socialites and gossips would never allow that.

There had been recent snippets of insider information, or rather, informally passed-along gossip bits, that there would be an unknown and an unexpected guest there. Most of the speculation had concluded that the said guest was invited on impulse by Countess Gristenor, who'd always been known for making such rash decisions. However, the mysterious speculators had no leads to the identity of the guest.

"Don't worry yourself over nothing, Rita. It's impossible that the ball would be canceled on such short notice. Count and Countess Gristenor wouldn't be able to show themselves publicly for days!" I joked. Rita was so easily fooled and upsetted by the smallest of matters. Sometimes, I even wondered about who was really older and wiser in years, me or her?

"Oh, do you really think so? I'd so hoped to wear the gown I'd specially-ordered from Paris tonight!" She chirped, her voice becoming cheery and glad-sounding again, the way it always was. I smiled, showing my whites.

"Yes, I really think so. You'd better have Tabitha iron it out so it'll be freshly pressed for tonight." I dipped my pen in ink and started mulling over my words again. Penmanship and writing were my best skills...and yet I couldn't even compose this letter without fretting over each syllable. Rita looked horrified.

"Oh no, I completely forgot! I must do that at once!" She kicked up her frilly petticoat and skirt, leaving my room in the same manner that she'd entered, forgetting to close my door. I huffed angrily at this.

"Rita! Close my door, will you!" I yelled unladylikely after her. My father was in his study, all the way in the opposite wing of our mansion, and wouldn't hear my outburst. My mother, similarly, was busy making a social call with Lady Brantley, leaving Rita, Anneliese, and I to our own business.

My lady's maid, Hannah, came rushing along the corridor, her movements echoing behind her, and hastily closed the overshadowing twin-doors. I sighed. I hadn't meant to cause trouble for her. _Rita and her craziness_, I thought.

I kept at my letter for awhile, disregarding the time until it started nearing evening and the ball, and I heard a low double-knock on my doors, followed by someone clearing their throat, as if they hadn't a voice to say anything with.

"Miss Suzette, would you like it if I prepared your dress for you? The ball is in less than 2 hours." I heard Mrs.Richter, our housekeeper, say respectfully. She was as silent as the flowers and never spoke unless spoken to, or, as in this case, had to. I put away my stationery in the drawer beneath before I answered her.

"Yes, I suppose so, Mrs.Richter." I called, gazing out my windows at the darkening horizon of the sky, encompassing the area above my home's lawn. The trees were such a dark shade of green today, and the flowers were drooping from the harsh beating of the raindrops. But I enjoyed the stormy unpredictability of rain and thunder. It was something which you couldn't really foresee. It just happened. And being embedded in a life of constants and normalcy, the rain was the only thing I found remotely exciting in my life.

Of course, that was until the ball held at Count Gristenor's tonight. Meeting somebody whom I'd never thought nor expected to meet in my lifetime, and whom I probably never would meet again in my lifetime. But at the time, I'd been too naive to realize it's importance until it was too late.


	2. Chapter 2: Fate

The sun had already begun to set in the distance. Warm, yellowy-orange light filtering softly through the greenery of the trees, in the lightest of hues. I loved the feeling which came with the approach of nightfall. I always found the prospect of dark, not-so-safe night to be truly exciting. At night, I could sleep and in my dreams, I'd be anything. I could be the sparrow or the lark soaring in the majestic heavens, piercing the winter-white clouds and admiring the world from a view which no human being could have. I could be the waterfall and the stream, the rivers. Flowing furiously in one direction, cutting into anything in it's way. Never having to be ignored, but feared. Yes, I truly did love dreaming at night.

Our carriage driver, Mr.Wicker, an old and surly man, who'd been working for my family since my parents had married, gave the horses pulling us a slight crack of the whip, and as I winced at the sound, the horses neighed loudly and their hoofs started clacking at the cobblestone pavement beneath us. I tried not to breathe _too much_, having a corset so tightly wounded around my waist. But I could bear with the discomfort and the pain, if it meant I would look as beautiful, and as stunning as my sisters.

Anneliese was fiddling with the lace embroidery on her gown's hem, yawning every once in awhile. Anneliese was a pure bookworm, studious and logical. This also made her hate social events and functions with all her being, as she found them to frivolous and shallow for her smart taste. She sighed and then, started twirling a loose strand of her hair, with absolute boredom.

Rita, on the other hand, was completely giddy and practically bouncing with delight. Her face was beaming radiantly and she had a wide smile on her face, grinning from ear to ear. She kept on looking out the carriage window impatiently, as if by doing that, we would somehow magically appear in front of Count Gristenor's mansion. She occasionally reached for her diamond necklace and felt the jewels.

My mother would be going ahead of us, and my father wasn't leaving his study anytime soon, so it was just the three of us sisters, sitting inside the stuffy atmosphere of our horse-drawn vehicle. I loved balls, don't get me wrong, but the only reason I do is because it gives me hope that maybe something new and different, something exciting will happen there. A way to leave behind the drudgery of daily life, a chance to experience a whole new perspective. How that would happen...and exactly _who_ would make it happen was beyond me. I just wanted it. I didn't care how.

* * *

"Ouch!" I yelped, biting down on my lower lip. Rita had just stepped on my foot in her mad haste to disembark from the carriage, and she'd nearly knocked Mr.Wicker aside.

"Rita, control yourself!" I scolded under my breath, trying not to attract too much attention from the other guests outside the mansion, some of whom had begun to gossip behind their big, annoying rainbow fans. _For goodness sake_, I thought.

"It's just a little bit of pain, Suzette." Anneliese said matter-of-factly, completely oblivious to the stares and looks we were getting, as she proceeded to dismount too. She pulled out her own fan and began to fan herself demurely. Of course, she couldn't care less what people thought of her. She already had enough gossip going around about her study habits.

I sighed disappointedly. It was positively horrible being youngest in my family, having everyone automatically dismiss my opinions and rebukes. I could feel my cheeks flush with bright red and warmth, as opposed to the cold of the evening, when we entered the entrance of the manor. _They_ were still talking animatedly about Rita's display. I felt like melting into the shrubbery outside.

I nearly felt compelled to shield my eyes from the glaring yellow light streaming down from the chandeliers hovering above us, once we were inside. I quickly surveyed the main ballroom and spotted the figure of my mother, busy socializing in the center of the room. She was so heavily surrounded by people that if I hadn't heard her laugh, her _fake_ laugh which she does when she's forced to laugh over someone's pathetic joke, I wouldn't have realized she was there.

Rita had started flirting already. It wasn't hard to do for her. She was always approached by gentlemen, desperate for a closer look at her beauty, at every ball. So it was hardly surprising that she'd been proposed to numerous times, but she'd always turned them all down. I used to question her about it but she usually just pretended that she didn't her me, so I gave up trying long ago.

Anneliese and Rita were both so beautiful. They both had the same luxuriant, chestnut-brown hair which lightly curled at the ends. And the same ocean blue eyes. Except that Rita's beauty was more of the drop-dead gorgeous-look-at-me kind whilst Anneliese's required closer inspection but was still noticeable. So, what did that make me?

I wasn't as tall as either of them, and my feet were 2 sizes bigger than theirs. My hair was a glossy, shining black and I sometimes had extremely bad hair-days with it. And my eye color was hardly unique, being a dark,hazel brown. And I wasn't slender in my form nor graceful, oh wait, neither was Rita, but still.

My mother had politely excused herself from the group of society's most notorious gossips, to come and inspect us. She was smiling but it wasn't genuine. It was forced. You could see it in her stormy ocean eyes. She sighed exasperatedly when she noticed Anneliese's dress. I wondered what was wrong. Anneliese looked so refined and pretty in it. But then again, this was _my_ mother.

"Anneliese, why did you wear that hideous frock? I told you to specifically to wear the brand-new one which had been sent in last week." Her voice spoke levels of coldness. I turned away from them. It was the same. She always demanded the perfection which no one could give. I knew Anneliese's answer.

"I apologize dearly, Mother. It merely slipped my mind, and I thought that this one seemed acceptable." She replied innocently. Anneliese was a marvelous actress. She hated the new dress that'd been ordered by my mother. And truthfully, the said dress really was far too frivolous and over-the-top in it's design. Anneliese would rather run away with a footman than wear that.

"Of course, you forgot. Always having your head buried in those loathsome books of yours!" She reproached her, bitterly. She then regained her composure and the unfeeling smile was back on her lips once again.

"Excuse me, I must see to your sister." She said in a false tone. And she flew instantly to Rita's side, asking for an introduction to the young heir currently flirting with Rita. I could see him visibly squirm under my mother's intense gaze. I pitied him.

"Suzette," Anneliese had started walking off in the direction of the balcony, "pay attention." And then, she'd disappeared out the doors. I knew what that meant. The _guest of honor_ was here.

I didn't wonder why Anneliese had just walked off so suddenly. I never got the chance too. Because at that very moment, the opportunity I'd always hoped for strode into the ballroom, and I lost my breath for more than just one measly moment.

_He_ was the most handsome creature I'd ever beheld. And when I saw him, I felt instantly numb and brimming with emotion at the same time. My heart was beating so quickly that I nearly thought it hadn't been functioning properly throughout my whole life until now.

And when he smiled. I knew I must have died then, and gone to heaven. My knees went weak and I should have collapsed had I not been standing against the wall. His golden blond hair was shining under the glare of the chandeliers and his eyes were a sweet honey color.

But just as quickly as I'd been stunned into euphoria did it evaporate when I realized that he'd never be interested in someone as unattractive as me. I'd been entertaining false hope, once again. I brushed away some invisible wrinkles on my skirt and trotted in the opposite direction from the gloriously handsome stranger.

When I reached the balcony, and stepped outside did I realize why Anneliese hadn't stayed to see the newcomer along with everyone else. She was too busy kissing Miles Frank in the shadowy side of the porch. I blushed a very, very deep shade of crimson and fled before they noticed I was there.

I couldn't believe it. Anneliese, who'd said that she'd never get married, was there kissing Miles Frank, one of the most eligible bachelors in society. _Sometimes you can't really know everything about a person at all_, a tiny voice whispered into the echoing space of my mind. No doubt she was risking her reputation by doing that while everyone else was too preoccupied with the newcomer, just to spite my mother for the latter's comment.

But if my mother knew, I'd tell you she'd be pleased one way or another. Especially since Miles was both an heir, and possessed a title. Then I started wondering why nobody knew about this little romance of theirs. I was so caught up in my train of thought that I never realized who was coming in my direction at that particular moment until it was too late.

"May I have this dance, milady?" A very pale white hand was held out for me to take, and I could feel the air in my lungs escaping in a rush. Because that pale hand belonged to _him_.

I nearly lost my voice but managed to strain out a reply. "I...yes, you may." That voice didn't belong to me at all. It belonged to someone who wasn't falling apart on the inside, whose heart hadn't just gone wild. His eyes were so mesmerizing, so enchanting. I had to say yes.

I took his hand and felt a sizzle of warmth flow down my arm and resuscitate my dying heart, although his hand was as cold as the grave. He swept me effortlessly out onto the floor where the other couples were dancing in synchronized rhythm to the waltz being played by the orchestra.

I felt tremors escape down my spine when he placed his other hand on my waist, and my body was assaulted by more warmth and at the same time, piercing cold. It seemed like a dream, like the dreams where I could be what I wanted to be. I felt like the sparrow I'd been in my dream, floating over the sky without a care in the world.

I was floating in every second of his embrace. Although the steps to the dance were memorized clearly in my mind, I felt like I was learning them for the first time in my life when we danced. He was so tall. I kept my eyes focused on his, despite the fact I knew I might die at any moment from it.

His eyes said that he was amused by me but at the same time, I could feel he was lonely too somehow. I could feel the jealous glares of the other girls on me, and for the first time, I understood how it felt to be envied by others. Even Rita was pretending that it didn't bother her that I'd been chosen by him to dance. I knew it was selfish but I enjoyed the satisfaction I got from it.

When the dance ended, I introduced myself. "Suzette Langley." I said, as I curtsied. I felt my heart flutter when I heard his echoing voice, chime like a bell.

"James Stoner." He took my left hand in his and gave it a kiss. I excused myself and fled to the safety of Anneliese, who was standing offhandedly in the corner of the room. She regarded me warily.

"Suzette. Don't get ahead of yourself." And that was all she said to me for the remainder of the evening. But I didn't care whatsoever. I was literally over the moon with happiness. But little did I know that, this would be the start of one of the strangest, most memorable chapters of my life.


	3. Chapter 3: Just Once

_A/N: I am so, so sorry that I made you all wait such a long time for this, but I was swamped and right now, I'm having trial exams so I can't update until after them. So I hope this is enough for now. Really,really sorry! _

"Suzette?" Rita rapped her hand loudly on the hard dining table twice, trying to get my attention."Wasn't it the most spectacular, most divine thing that had ever happened to you?" She narrowed her eyes, sarcasm dripped venomously in her voice. I didn't understand her. Why was she being so petty over this?

I fiddled with the scraps of scrambled egg on my breakfast plate, pushing them around in little circles. I didn't want to answer her. She was just trying spoil my mood because I'd been in such a joyous state since my dance with _him_. But Rita wouldn't quit it. I sighed angrily and looked over towards Anneliese, hoping that she could alleviate the situation. She stared back at me, her eyes betraying no sympathy whatsoever. In fact, she looked like she was saying that I deserved this.

What was wrong with the two of them?Why couldn't they let me have something for once?It was hard enough being the youngest child already. I swallowed my breakfast meal and abruptly left my so-called family, with Rita still giving me jealous glares and Anneliese completely ignoring me. I blocked out all my hurt from being mistreated just because I was happy.

It was sunny out today. But it wouldn't brighten my mood whatsoever, because I hated the sun. It made me unhappy for some weird reason. Rain was always so much more pleasing. I headed upstairs to my room and felt under my pillow for the novel I'd been reading. I'd swiped it from Anneliese's room the day before. Unfortunately, I hadn't realized that she herself had left it in open view because it was a horridly dull book. The main character was a dumb twit who kept complaining about her woeful life. She'd known that I'd pick it up first if I came in there. I slumped lazily against the blankets and started reading boredly.

My mother was out, of course. My father where he always was. In actual fact, I sometimes went months without seeing him. Whenever he was free from his work, he went out to his club or to the pub to drink. My father was handsome, but time had wrinkled his features, and the constant stress of his business burdening him only made matters worse. One of my mother's socialite friends had once commented that lack of male exposure made young girls become wild when they debuted into society. She'd been talking about my sisters and I, no doubt. It was common knowledge about my family situation.

My mother had once had some vicious rumors that she was having an affair with a young viscount spread around, but it was pure hogwash. There was no truth to it. My mother managed to hold her head high throughout the whole thing, but I can still remember that I myself had mistrusted her too. I was 10 years old then, and in my eyes, the world was black and white. There could be no gray area. And I'd believed the awful rumor. I distanced myself from her, and I suppose that's why even now, she never showed much, if any, affection towards me. I was the invisible daughter.

And once in awhile, I cried. I would cry because I had no one to turn to. No one to listen to me, and fully understand what I wanted to say. Even my sisters wouldn't tolerate me. A shy tear crept out of my left eye and slid down my cheek, wetting my collar. I closed the book and curled up into a ball. I didn't want to cry, but it was hard not to. And when I recalled how often I'd been shunned, I'd been ignored. Rejected. Unwanted. Then, I'd cry. But, not today.

"May I have this dance?" His melodious voice rang in my ears, and all the tears left me. Last night, I'd felt like I'd belonged. Just once, while we danced, I'd felt that I was perfect. Good enough for this handsome stranger to choose me over the rest. I replayed our waltz in my mind's eye, and I smiled. I'd probably never see him again, but still it'd been enough. To know that somewhere out there, somebody found me beautiful.

The birds were cooing outside my window and I felt the sunlight on me. It was nearing midday. I didn't want to spend the whole day here, feeling sorry for myself. I straightened up and brushed out my dress evenly. A slight ripple of sound broke through the silence in my room. I heard it again. Somebody was giggling. And really loudly too. Obviously it was Rita. What over I hadn't a clue. I sighed and trod downstairs, meaning to take a walk around the manor.

I reached the bottom step and visibly froze. It wasn't Rita giggling like a madwoman. It was Anneliese. And she was doing it in the middle of our back kitchen. _What in the world? _was all I could think of. I concealed myself behind a pillar and listened in on her conversation. It was him. Miles Frank. She was seriously taking her romance up to the very high levels of utter scandal. More giggling ensued and I felt absolutely nauseated by it. I silently returned to the parlor and pretended that I hadn't heard a thing.

Rita was nowhere to be found, as if I wanted to have to deal with her petty jealousy. After all, it was merely one dance (despite it being a very magical dance...) and I would never have much of a chance of anything else with him. However, my train of thought wandered off and I began imagining us as lovers. I felt a bright red blush fluster my cheeks at one particular interval and immediately banished my impure thoughts. This was hopeless.

Why was I being such a child? Entertaining such fantasies was strictly forbidden. But I really couldn't help myself. I was a child. I was barely eighteen years old. A bell chimed and tinkled signaling the arrival of lunch. I waited for one of the maids to call us each. Eventually, Greta called and I went in to the dining hall to endure another meal with my malicious mirage of a family.


	4. Chapter 4: Unwanted Arrangement

_A/N:Again, a million 'I'm sorry's!"!!!! I'm still having my exams, but I'm not going to abandon this story. In fact, I've just gotten a brand new overdose of inspiration which should make it better than before. So, no worries! I'm getting a one week break next week, hopefully I can update more then. If I'm lucky, I can write another chapter up today. But only if you will all be my friends and review!:)_

I flopped onto my bed and nearly suffocated myself in my powder white sheets. The white of the bedspread turned gray and damp from my teary eyes. I didn't shriek or whine; I just let the tears flow out soundlessly. I'd known all along that it couldn't be put off forever. But, I still didn't want it to have been like this. I didn't want to have to go through it so early. Not now.

_Is that the real reason, Suzette? Or are you still holding out some dumb fantasy of him being the one instead? Are you still waiting for him to come along and ask for your hand? After only one insignificant dance?_ A bitter voice laced my thoughts venomously.

"It was not insignificant!" I cried out without thinking, responding to the imaginary voice in my mind.

"It was beautiful! It was...different," My voice dropped an octave lower, and I crumpled the sheets under my fingers in a very powerful grasp.

I didn't understand any of this at all. How could my mother have been capable of agreeing to this? Of having me sent away to marry some landowner's son in another country at the very peak of my youth? I wasn't ready to leave behind everything I'd ever known, nor abandon the freedom of my youth so easily. And yet, there was nothing I could think of that would make the circumstances alter. I was without any option.

My thoughts flew to the looks on my mother and sisters' faces; Mother had been cold and her eyes unreadable. Rita had ignored the whole situation and stared downwards at her plate. Anneliese had been...relieved. Her reaction had been the strangest. She had almost seemed to be happy, as if this was something good. Which made the tears flow down so much more. No one, no one understood.

Why was I the one to be married off first?It wasn't fair! I shouldn't have to do this. I was the youngest. I was supposed to be childish, and chirpy, enjoying balls and flirting with all the possible suitors. Mother had let me reject Thomas, why not this one? If anyone was to be married anytime soon, it had to be Rita. _Not_ me. This made the tears more furious and pour out even more.

I lay there on the bed face-up, preventing the tears from staining the bedsheets any further. My gown was dampening from them; I couldn't stop crying. This was madness, pure madness. And I was about to be locked up for it. My fate was sealed the day my mother accepted it.

Hours must have passed before I even bothered to stir from where I laid; I glanced at the mirror to see my reflection. My eyes were wet but not red. I'd learned long ago that if I didn't fight the crying, my eyes stayed the same. My cheeks too held no trace of puffiness either. Nobody would no how I felt and I'd let it stay that way, once again.

* * *

_Meanwhile, in a country manor near Volturi, Italy.  
_

"Father! Why would you do this without me knowing?" A young man in his early twenties said exasperatedly. His hair was a light shade of raven and had dark brown streaks in it. He glared angrily at his father, an older man, whom he resembled considerably. His father shook his head in a final way.

"There will be no objections, Vincent. I will not have you running off and around with one of those hapless Italian peasant girls. You are English, and you will marry an English lady," His eyes were stern. His gaze hardened even more when he saw a look of defiance flicker into his son's eyes; his son whom he knew never obeyed him.

"My name is Vincenzo! Not Vincent, and I don't care what I am! You cannot marry me to some airhead English woman who does nothing more than look pretty!" His voice was full of anger and frustration; this was the last straw. He was leaving tonight...and nothing would stop him from being with Katrinka.


	5. Chapter 5: Leaving

_A/N:Ok!This chapter is dedicated to Oda, as she is the only one who reviewed... :( come on people please review! It really will get exciting. I'll start writing the next chapter now,and seriously, just writing 3 words is enough too for me.:) Please!!!!!_

The room was silent. The trunks and suitcases lay neatly packed up with my attire and belongings within, on the far side of my room. My bed was made up crisply. I could hear the swallows and bluebirds outside my window, despite it being closed. My desk drawers were emptied clean and no held nothing but house dust. I ran my palm along the top of my smooth wooden desk; I didn't want to leave!

A loud double knock sounded at my doors and the echo flew throughout my room, sounding so out of place in the ominous silence. The doors opened and creaked loudly, Hannah came in and, along with Greta, started to heave my trunk off the ground. I was going to motion for them to leave it. It was a job for one of the doormen, but I thought better of it. They had been insistent on doing so. I knew that I would miss them as much as they would miss me. I'd grown up with them. They were as much my sisters as Rita and Anneliese were.

I looked into my mirror and saw a ashen-looking figure stare back. I had the face of a girl whose death sentence had just been announced. In a way, yes, I was going to die. The trip to Italy would take nearly 3 weeks, and none of my family was to accompany me. I hadn't understood why at first. But now, everything was so _perfectly crystal clear_. My mother didn't want me around here any longer; and rather than waste time biding the days until I could be of a respectable social age to marry some rich gentleman, she'd decided that I should be sent far, far, far, away to someplace where people spoke a language I couldn't and ate spaghetti all the time. And marry some nobody of a class _lower _than me, one of the working-class gentry. She must have been desperate to rid me from her life.

I shut my eyes and waited for those irritating tears of mine to flee. I wouldn't show them how weak I really was. I had to be strong. Or I would die right here, right now. Gold eyes. Perfect smile. Heavenly voice. I'd think of the only thing left which could give me any hope whatsoever. We were dancing once again, in perfect rhythm to the music. My feet were light for once and I couldn't have been happier...spinning and twirling; floating on the wind...

"Miss?" The vision of bliss vanished sadly. Hannah was staring at me; I could see the obvious look of sympathy and sadness in her eyes. I reached out and hugged her.

"I'll miss you, Hannah." I whispered, my voice barely audible.

"I'll miss you too, Suzette." She whispered back, and we stood there for awhile; I thought back to when I was a small child. No playmates for me; I was too boisterous and tomboyish. The park was empty, except for a girl my age-dressed in rags-on a bench.

"Hi, I'm Suzette!" I'd been quick to introduce myself to her when my governess turned her back for a few seconds to nap. Hannah had given me a wary look but had mumbled her name anyways. I wanted to play. She wanted something to eat. I ran off to a concessionaire nearby. I came back with a container of dried raisin biscuits. She ate them; we chatted. I found out she was an orphan and she had just been kicked out of her uncle's home; he had never been kind to her in the first place.

I had the most brilliant idea ever. She could come home with me and be my playmate. I remember how her eyes shone with hope when I'd said it. I begged my irate governess, who had been flustered enough with my antics for the day. She finally agreed when I threatened to tell that she'd napped and I'd gone off to a store alone while she'd done so. My mother had been..._less than amused_.

"Dear me, what do I do with you, Suzette?" She'd breathed out in a sigh. She swept a careful glance over timid-looking Hannah, and shook her head.

"Suzette, I don't know what I should do with her..." I cut in. "She's my friend! She'll be my playmate! Then, you won't have to keep looking for one!" I'd been utterly naive, yes, but it worked. My mother did agree. Later, when I had to leave for finishing school, Hannah became a lady's maid to my mother, until I came back.

The memories slipped away and I was back in my room once again. Hannah was sobbing; I knew I was too. Greta came inside, and joined us. She'd been taken in as my playmate too; sometime after Hannah had been; and she'd been begging for food from house to house before that. We were indebted to each other. Them to me, and I to them. They were the true friends I'd never found, in the cacaphony of society.

"I will miss you both, so, so much." I said, between sobs. They both nodded and I promised to write letters as often as possible; as if there'd be anything else to do, I'd added jokingly. This made them smile a bit and we walked out of my room together. I gave a short backward glance at my room before the doors were closed and memorized in minute detail what I could see: my neatly made-up bedspread, my upholstered seat, my oak solid desk, my looming bedroom doors. And then, the door closed. The light in the hallway evaporated into the shadows.

* * *

"Suzette, please behave for once when you arrive, and greet Mr.Walsh properly." My mother's voice struck me. It wasn't unfeeling today. It was genuinely pleading and morose. I looked at her, my eyes wide. She'd never spoken to me like this before. 

"The country is different from London, especially in Italy. But Mr.Walsh and his son live comfortably in a manor surrounded by fruit orchards. Don't wander off and stay on the land at all times. We shall meet with you in a month's time." She sounded endearing for once.

"Do not worry, Suzette. Mr.Walsh is a jovial fellow and he lived in India before he settled in Italy. He will make you feel welcome, and his son should be just the same." My ears caught on only one word:_ should._

"What do you mean 'should'?" I demanded, cutting into my mother's final words of parental advice. She twisted her head slightly and then, completely disregarding my question, continued on about do's and don'ts. I was getting married; why did I still need her to tell me what to do?

Eventually, she finished. I hugged my mother and sisters goodbye. My father was nowhere to be seen. I tried not to let that bother me too much. I saw our housekeeper break into a crying fit when the carriage started to pull away. I waved until I could see the house no more. I imprinted all their faces in my mind: Hannah and Greta's forlorn ones, my sisters' subdued sad ones, my mother's first warm look in years, the servants;whose expressions were mixed between indifference and puffy-eyed stares. It was all the more saddening though; because I didn't have my father's face in my memory. Before this, he'd already been like a ghost to me. Now, he didn't exist at all.

I turned my head, and ignoring what was left of my last chance to see the city of London, cried my heart out into the seat of the carriage. The carriage ride eventually became bumpier, as the cobblestones and tar had been replaced with open dirt. Every once in awhile, I stumbled upon myself or was flung mercilessly to the sides of the old thing.

The night soon came and we had to stop at a inn, somewhere near a remote town on the outskirts. The rest of the days followed in the same manner; we left before dawn and stopped at dusk. The countryside became much, more prevalent. After 5 days of non-stop driving, I started being able to smell the seaside whiff in the air. We reached the port the next day. The driver unloaded my luggage and I bought a ticket to France. I'd be boarding a steamer in the late afternoon. The driver stayed with me until then and saw me off. Obviously, none other than my dear mother who'd instructed him to do so.

I was fairly excited to be on a steamer and the trip was quicker than I'd thought it to be. Strangely, while I'd been on the steamer, I'd started to view this marriage as an escape;not a death sentence or loss of my youth. I was traveling alone until I reached France's shores. I became a slight bit more adventurous than I should have been and sneaked into the lower-class quarters one night; there was a party going on. I just wanted to see what it was like. Little did I know, someone I knew was there as well. Someone who had gold eyes.


	6. Chapter 6: Surprises

_A/N: I am so **happy** that people have finally decided to review! Thank you so much to vtcullen and Krystlebelle ( who made an account just so she could review! ) for your reviews! And to everyone else, please,please,please,please,please,please,review!!!! And a very special thanks to Luthien Flicker who has been encouraging this story from the start! - _**MissMei92**

The night was starry and dark at the same time. _It's so beautiful; to be able to watch the stars without the lights of the city around for once._ I fingered my dress uncomfortably. Earlier in the day, I'd taken one of my older frocks and altered it considerably. It now looked less high-class, and more plain and shabby-like. I'd let my flowing black tresses down tonight. When I'd caught a glimpse of my mirror reflection, I'd been shocked. I looked completely different from the usual. _I looked more like me._ I fought down the urge to run back to my cabin and bury my face in the pillows. I gulped nervously and summoned up all the courage possible and walked into that loud and noisy hall as if it was the most natural thing in the world. The first thing to catch my attention was the music; it was loud, vibrant and celebrating. All my fears and worries slipped away and I relaxed.

None of the others thought I looked any different from them, and were doing exactly what I'd thought they'd do at one of these sort of parties. The drunk men were laughing rudely over lame jokes; the older wives were gossiping and arguing about society; the younger ones were more harried and were busy attending to their little babies; the couples were dancing, of course; the children were playing marbles and discussing dolls. I smiled to myself when I saw one of the boys playing marbles wasn't a boy at all; more of a girl wearing an over-sized cap, which she obsessively tucked lower onto her head. I stood offhandedly in a quieter corner and observed the happenings. It was different, yet familiar at the same time. Different, because here there were no inhibitions, no manners, no rules, no people to please. The same, because there was nothing special about high-class people which made them any better than lower-class people. They were all just people. I'd been humming the current tune being played when a eerily amazing voice startled my thoughts.

"Miss Suzette?" My heart skipped a beat. I must have died and gone to heaven; because at that instant I was looking into those ever devastatingly haunting golden eyes. I was staring at the face of an angel. It was _him_.

"Are you here alone, Miss?" I cursed myself for being so tongue-tied; but I'd never expected _him_ to be here. This was surreal, and dared I believe it, fated. James Stoner was standing before me now, dressed like a lower-class gentleman and he still appeared as handsome as ever. I must have been a sight for sore eyes.

I finally found my voice and strangled it until it spoke."N-no. Uhh, I mean y-yes." _Wonderful answer_, _Suzette. _He must think that you're about as smart as a walrus. I blushed furiously, and bit my lower lip down hard.

"I see. What, pray tell, are you doing in the lower-class quarters at this time of night, then?" He was toying with me; I could see it in those liquid-sun eyes of his. He was more amused in talking to me than the actual answer. This made me bolder than I really was at that moment.

"Why? For the party, of course. What are you doing here?" I asked in, what I hoped, was the most steady voice I had.

He laughed and it sounded like an the echoes of a music box. Soft, yet enchanting. "Of course, I'm here for the party as well. How have you been since our little dance?" His eyes sparkled at this. It nearly made me faint; he'd remembered. He'd remembered _me_. I smiled as brightly as possible.

"Quite fine. Do you agree?" I lied expertly; I wasn't about to tell him that I was engaged to be married.

"Oh, yes. The same for me. I'm headed south, towards Italy. I'm visiting some old friends of mine." He chuckled. "Tell me, do you often dress up in lower-class clothes and loiter around their parties like this?" He joked light-heartedly.

"Do you?" I replied simply, indicating that I had more wit in me than the average high-bred female. Ladies are taught to answer every question they've been asked before they can even begin to ask their own; even then, they can't say much either. I was the total exception from this, though.

He looked even more amused by this. "No, but I thought I'd be adventurous tonight." He smiled a smile which made my knees weak as a newborn fawn. However, at this very moment, the ship lurched and I lost my balance, my feet twisting in a weird angle and pulling me to my knees.

"Suzette!" He'd disregarded the formalities. _How cute._ "Are you alright?" He was by my side, holding my arms in his strong grasp. I felt the same spark of electricity I'd felt before this, from when we'd danced. It was like a wave of warmth and cold surging through me and touching my heart. My heartbeat was quickening every second we lingered like this.

"I'm still in good shape. Don't worry," I said quickly, trying to remove myself from his embrace; this wasn't proper at all. He wouldn't let me.

"Perhaps we should go outside for awhile. This room is too crowded for my taste." He gently helped me up, placing my right arm around him and wrapping his left arm around my waist. I protested a bit.

"You really don't need to do this. I'm perfectly capable of walking." My cheeks were getting flushed. I could see the curious looks that everyone else was giving us. Embarrassment was an emotion I'd like to avoid. James paid them no attention at all. He only cared about me. And that thought was enough to make me flutter with happiness.

He helped me walk until we reached the upper deck area. I gripped the railing and gasped for breath. It wasn't that I was injured or anything like that; I was more of trying to regain my sanity before I completely lost it. James was still holding me around my waist. I could feel his hand rubbing my side gently. _How improper_, I'd thought. But unthinkingly, I didn't mind.

I turned my head to watch his face. He was staring upwards at the night sky; so engrossed in the stars that I'd thought he'd forgotten where he was. I was still studying his face when he suddenly caught my gaze. Surprised, I swiftly averted my eyes and concentrated on the nearest star I saw. I could feel him smiling at my reaction.

"Suzette, did you think that me meeting you was fate at work?" He asked abruptly. I looked back at him, taken aback. His eyes were sincere and I could see he was thinking very hard about something. I replied what came to my mind first.

"Yes, I think it was." I gazed intently into his eyes and I could see he was uneasy; he was fighting with himself over something. But I didn't what it was. He stared back with a strange look.

"Would you believe me...if...I...said...'I love you'?" His eyes lost the look I now recognized as being fear. He now looked resigned; as though he knew my answer. Or so he thought.

"Yes, I would." I answered back without any hesitance. Something I'd never felt before was stirring deep inside me. "Do you...do you...love...me?" I asked, my voice meek. He was silent so long that I'd felt like crumbling into dust and disappearing right then and there. I must have made a mistake; how could_ he_ love _me_?

"Yes, I love you, Suzette." His gaze fell downwards and I realized that he was waiting for me to reject him. _How? How could I ever do that to him? I...I...loved him too._ I reached up and touched his cold cheek.

"James, I love you too." It was unthinkable. Unheard of. We barely knew each other. And here we were, confessing love. I stroked his cheek lovingly and rested my head on his stone chest. He seemed to be completely still at first. I'd never felt like this before. So safe. So wanted. So _loved_. He gently tilted my head up,until I was facing him once again.

He slowly bent downwards, and pressed his icy lips onto mine, igniting my inner being by doing so. I kissed him back, with as much passion as he had, as much love as he had shown. I moved my hands to his neck and held him closer. His hands soothed my tense back. We were lovers, just as I had imagined in my daydreams.

We parted only when we had to breath once again; I smiled at him. I felt like I was in just another dream, impending reality nearly come to wake me up now; but the seconds passed and here we still were, together in each others embrace, unspoken words flowing between us. I never wanted the moment to end. I never wanted that night to end. We stood underneath the stars for so long; just happy to be with one another.

Eventually, we had to go back inside. The sea breeze was starting to chill me; and James was so cold, I feared that he was ill already from it. He took off his coat and placed around me, as we entered the hallways again. I didn't want to have to leave him; and then a disastrous thought entered my mind. He had no idea that I was engaged. _Oh, dear Lord. What would I do? What could I say that wouldn't hurt him? Everything had taken place so quickly. _

A voice inside me told me what I had to do. "If you really love him, you'd tell him the truth." I knew what I needed to do. He lead me back to my cabin and I made him promise me that tomorrow when the ship docked in France, he would be there waiting for me. He gave me his word. We kissed goodbye and I fell into my bed, sobbing. Half-because I was tortured over my decision of telling him; half-because I wanted to lie so I wouldn't lose this. The sun was already rising as I finally fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7: Lost Lives

_A/N: Apologies for this short chapter. I'll try harder to make it better next time. I'm a real let-down, aren't I? Sorry. :(__**  
**_

_**In the distant countryside of Italy.**  
_

_Leave me alone.Leave me alone.Leave me alone.Leave me alone.Leave..._the phrase was repeated over and over throughout an infinite amount of times. Vincent shut his eyes and tried to remember the prayer that Katrinka had thought him.

_Katrinka_...He pleaded ruthlessly with his mind to forget it. To not think about it. To not think that the love of his life, his shining princess...was _dead_. Worse than dead.

She'd been torn apart, dismembered. He'd watched. He'd seen the joyous life within her drain out and into that **_creature_**'s mouth, as it devoured her blood whole. He heard the last mournful, unbearable scream wrenched from her as her breath died.

The creature flung her around as though, she were less than human, something expendable. The most horrible sense of it was that he'd been incapable, powerless. He had promised to protect her with all his being, the core of his soul. To take death for her, if so beckoned.

He was a murderous liar of broken vows. He'd seen it all. And at the last moment, those jade eyes had caught his fleeting, scrambling ones in a cold, death gaze. They spoke the truth: _Coward...you left me to this fate. You broke your promise... _His pulsing blood had turned frozen as icy rivers.

How could he think of mercy for himself when Katrinka had been spared none? This _beast_, this...he couldn't find a _word_ which would do this creature justice to _what_ it was.

_Justice_..._justice. There would be no justice for Katrinka. None at all until he suffered the same fate...a thousand-hundred times over. _It turned it's sickeningly gleeful expression on it's face towards him. Katrinka...or what was _left of her_...dropped to the wet grass and in the glint of the moonlight, she looked macabre.

It crouched and sprung, a terrifyingly spine-chilling howl snapped out of it and paralyzed Vincent. It's white razors sharpened by the recent tearing of human flesh and bone flew at his neck. There was a distinct sound. The sound of a head being decapitated. And the night said no more.

* * *

_**Aboard a ship**_ **_docked into port in France._**

I awoke the next morning to bursts of sunlight and the sounds of seagulls overhead. _Seagulls...we were here!_ The ship had docked at the port; I looked out of my circle-shaped window and saw the daily hustle and bustle toil all around: sailors loading and unloading cargo, passengers disembarking from the ship, carriages moving in lines to fetch their ward.

Just watching it all nearly made me forget what had happened last night. The dream I'd dreamed of since forever had become a reality. Unfortunately, in reality nothing was perfect.

I was still engaged to a man I'd never met; I couldn't pull myself away from the responsibility on me. Dropping everything, everyone, all I knew and had been given, for love. I may have been in love but that was such a high price to pay. I didn't know if I could pay the price on having a dream exchanged for reality.

As I dressed absently, my mind wandered over what I should do. Say the truth and risk losing it all? Lie to save it all, but possibly lose it anyway? Or tell the truth and hope for the best? It was all so uncertain; I felt positively mad when I didn't know the guarantee of anything.

The porters for my cabin filed in and promptly carried my trunk and luggage out without a single word nor glance, save for a slight acknowledgment. Their lives were so simple, so planned, so routine.

They didn't have to risk their whole family's reputation, their lives on a daily basis. Not like her. But that's what made the aristocracy separate from the commoners. Well, maybe being a commoner was better.

The ability to lead a happy life without a single disturbance; no one to force you into doing things you wouldn't ever do if you weren't forced to. No need to be fake or poised or demure or all that nonsense about being the perfect lady.

The porters shifted the things I'd brought easily and were gone momentarily. I took one last look around the cabin, taking in the worn wooden floor, the arch of the cabin's roof, the metal of the walls and the steel bolts holding the bed to the floor. _Goodbye, life as I know it._


	8. Chapter 8: Separation

_A/N:I really hope this is a good chapter.If you would like to, please review. Even a few words, thank you. :)_

Stepping down the the steps of the metal stairs, put into place for the convenience of the passengers, of course, I felt a strange flurry of emotion flit through my whole being. It consisted of turbulent confusion, indecision, sadness, remorse and ultimately, guilt. I felt guilty because I was being selfish.

If I lied to James, I'd be thinking only of myself and not him. I'd be lying to say that I was truly free to marry and love him, to say that I wasn't bound by the hands of my family, betrothed to another man. Before I knew it, a tear had escaped without my permission.

The tear held all my emotions and it also held all the love I felt for James. A tear. So insignificant, wasn't it? In my heart, though, I knew that a single tear if shed over true feelings, was so much, more worthy than a flood of meaningless, false ones. It slid slowly down my left cheek, wetting my collar.

Nobody noticed; the sailors and passengers mixed together into a flurry of color and sound; nothing more. Seeing the hum of daily life all around me, could only weigh down even more on my already too-heavy soul.

My heart picked up it's aggravating beating, as I swept my weary eyes over the patternless crowd of humans in front of me. Perhaps he wouldn't show; perhaps he'd known. I may not have mentioned anything about why I had been alone on this sombre ship, but it was purely the only logical reason.

Or was it? I didn't know anymore. Nothing was capable of giving me satisfactory answers. On the verge of crying out of mere frustration, I caught sight of a mass of golden hair in the fray. Unmistakably his, I knew.

Forgetting my luggage, the porters glancing at me with raised eyebrows, my duties and responsibilities, I stumbled after him, tumbling into the mass of human bodies which were elegantly-clothed but sweating feverishly under the heat of the midday sun.

Twice I received a harsh scolding for my running and for colliding with a haughty, piggish woman. I paid no more attention to them than I had to the frantic porters calling after me. I had to tell him, no matter how much I knew it would hurt me; I had to be honest with the one I loved.

"James!James!" My voice was hoarse, calling after him loudly, but getting lost in the overwhelming noise of the surroundings.

He didn't hear me. Or if he did, he refused to acknowledge me. At that thought, my heart cracked a bit. _He didn't hear me, that's all,_ I tried to reassure myself, failing miserably.

Suddenly, panic overtook my spirits. The mass of golden hair had begun to dissipate among the people. Picking up the pace, I pushed even more furtively into the fray, causing upheaval as the throng tried to avert themselves out of my path of destruction.

I had nearly caught up to him when I suddenly felt myself wheeling out of control. Before I knew it had even happened, I was lying on the hard cobblestones with a terrible pain in my foot shooting up the nerves of my right leg. I squealed in pain.

I noticed that my heeled boot had broken it's heel and lay stuck in the path. My stockinged foot lay uncovered for the world to see. Some of the passers-by sneered; _serves her right_, that's what they must have thought. Others uttered shocked murmurs and bent to help me.

None of this bothered me, whatsoever. I could only think of James. I've lost him. He would be gone now, and I could barely move my leg. Lying here on the ground, I should have felt ashamed. Ashamed of how I'd behaved.

But no, I felt none at all. I only could find the emotion of pain within. The pain of a broken heart. The pain of a dishonest love. The pain of never knowing. All of it welled up inside my heart and slowly, as one of the ladies knelt beside my bruised arm, whispering assurances, did I realize that I was shedding tears. Long, wet tears ran down my aching face.

As I watched them drip onto the cold, unforgiving ground, I knew that my consciousness wouldn't last very long. I'd faint from exertion soon but I managed to say one last sentence before I did. A simple one, but deep down inside, I hoped he heard what I'd said.

I said, "Forgive me, James." And my soul dipped into a fitful, restive slumber. Mourning the lost love of a young maiden.

* * *

How foolish I had been. Had I finally succumbed to the loneliness I'd felt for more than 3 centuries? I believed I had. Dancing with her at that ball, visiting her home at night, watching her sleep, following her on this voyage, knowing full well that she was engaged to be married. What was I thinking? I could never be with her. She was so beautiful. So full of life and so young. I couldn't hurt her anymore than I already had. When I did what I did the night before, I must have been insane. Because I'd been so forward, it would have been scandalous to be seen.

I could have ruined her. Her reputation, her family's reputation, her life. I kicked myself mentally with all of my might. I was indeed very selfish. I wanted so much. I was willing to sacrifice her. No, I wasn't. No matter how I'd been tempted to just whisk her away in my arms, I hadn't. She was a precious diamond. I couldn't spoil her, never would I think of such a thing. I had very nearly come close to meeting her whence, I'd promised.

But when I looked at my reflection, in the murky green seawaters, I was brutally brought back to the reality of things. Seeing my ivory-skinned face, I was jolted with the truth. I was not human. I was not worthy. I could not bring myself to lie to her any longer. I could not hurt her more. Turning away from the coldness of the stare, I strode off hastily. I hoped she would not see me; she had.

I'd heard her voice, yelling my name. But no, it was not my name. I did not have the liberty to tell her what my real name was. Hearing her sad, melancholic voice was like having my heart run over an intense fire, but I could not stop. I would not give in to my desires; I would control them. The same way I had done over the past centuries, perfecting the control I had of the monster inside me, kept under a tight leash. To make sure it never had free rein to murder innocents.

Her voice stopped. I knew that she'd fallen. The sound of her bone cracking sent a torturous pain all throughout my body. I wanted to run back to her, to caress her cheek, to wipe away the tears I knew she had. I wanted to heal her, make the pain stop. I wanted to hold her in my arms again and feel her warmth against my frigid cold.

And then, I smelt fresh blood and a small part of me desired it so much, that I was repulsed by my being, once again. A nearby fishmonger had slit his thumb with the chopping knife. I kept my eyes away from the sight and I knew that I could not go back. As much as it pained her, and me, it was the best thing I could do for her. The best thing I should have done in the first place, was to have kept away from her.

Willing the noise and confusion around me into oblivion, I remained stoic-faced as I strode calmly away from my beloved.


	9. Chapter 9: Papa

_A/N: Ok...hi:) Yeah, I know I took FOREVER to get this out but here it is! Hope you like it, I worked extra hard to write a long chapter this time. __It's going to be very cryptic and it needs a lot of deciphering, I think, so be ready. Alrighty, I'll shut up now. _

_P.S. I've started another story, it's called The Vampire Children. Check it out if you're free. ;)  
_

* * *

_Dear God, when I grow up, I want to be able to travel the world and see India and Rome. I also want to meet a handsome man who'll make me happy. Those are dreams I've dreamt about a lot for awhile, but what I really do want most is to see my papa smile again. I hope when Mrs. Archer sends this letter off, that it'll reach you, all the way up there in the sky I adore. Love, Suzette._

I watched my childhood self write out those words; elegant in their manner but in messy script nonetheless.

She smiled she finished and inserted it deftly into the brown paper envelope she'd taken from the study.

If there was one thing that Suzette had always known, it was that God existed and he watched over her constantly.

Only that'd been her childhood self who'd thought so.

She no longer believed; she'd lost her faith and her hope in Him when that letter was never answered.

Shortly after it'd been sent, her father never appeared at all. Suzette couldn't remember seeing him once in her adolescent years. He was a mystery to her when she was young.

The one memory of him which stuck clear as daylight in her innocent mind had been of when Anneliese had celebrated her 12th birthday.

His eyes are grey; his hair is dark but fading.

I'm reminded of myself when I see him but at the same time, I can't see the resemblance we hold.

Maybe it's because every time, when my father sees me, his eyes harden.

His facial expression turns grim and he almost looks...afraid.

Once, when I'd pulled his sleeve to get his attention while he'd been writing, he'd yelled at me in a rage.

His arm had knocked the blue ink all over his papers. They were ruined. I'd never been able to go to his office again.

My mother used to say that my father and I were so alike.

In our looks, in our writing, in our mannerisms.

But, although my mother never stopped talking and going on and on about how similar we were, my heart knew we were not at all the same.

As though, he wasn't my father...

* * *

The vision of my depressing past ended and I found myself staring into a pair of crimson-colored eyes. My heart leaped into my throat.

I swallowed down my saliva in a surprised gulp. The color of those eyes made my blood curdle and squeak.

Something papery-soft, yet cold, released my hand. I hadn't even known that someone had held it in a grip. My eyes adjusted to the soft focus of the torchlight illuminating the room.

My pulse started racing.

I was in some-sort of medieval castle. The room was made from solid stone bricks and expensive looking tapestries adorned the walls.

I couldn't see any windows.

_Oh, God. What have I gotten myself into now?_

As if answering my unspoken question, those crimson eyes which I couldn't stop staring into gently pulled me to a standing position.

I realised that those eyes belonged to a creepy-looking man who was dressed in very fine robes. He looked practically ancient.

His white lips curled upwards in a mocking smile and his eyes hinted at amusement.

Suddenly, I came upon a stunning realisation. The pallor of his skin was identical to James'. _Perhaps, he would know where the keeper of my heart was!_

My face must have betrayed my thoughts, for the man's eyes suddenly changed in expression. They became almost cruel-like.

I trembled and my hand dropped from his. It was then that I realized we were not alone in this room. Far from it.

Alongside the entrances, two other deathly-pale men stood, looking almost-like guards.

My heart was going to give out from the amount of stress I was feeling. The sense of impending danger was nearly palpable.

The room smelt dank and salty. A cold lump slithered into my gut as I recognized the smell as being that of blood.

I let out a terrified shriek, which echoed on the walls.

Lying on the ground nearby, lay something so bloody and mangled, that I wouldn't have recognized it to be human had I not seen the mass of dark hair, tangled and torn, atop the body.

The bones were lying in the most awkward positions, and several had been snapped and broken.

It was face-down and I was grateful that I did not have to witness the poor soul's face, which undoubtably would be one of pure and utter horror.

But this was not the most frightening sight I was witnessing.

It was the black-coated mass crouched over the body which scared me the most and chilled my blood. The shadowy figure was licking the pool of dark red liquid flowing from the corpse.

I nearly collapsed from shock.

Something caught me before I could, though. And I was even more ready to faint when I glanced at who had done so, because despite my memory being fleeting and blurred, I still remembered that face.

The expression of sheer terror which crossed his face when he saw me.

The shadow of my past; one of the many unresolved mysteries of my sad life.

Impossibility would be putting what I felt at that moment lightly.

Because, although his eyes were burgundy-red, I could have sworn that the features of this person belonged to that of my father.

And at that instant, my heart caved in from the internal pressure, and my breathing became heavy. I was being suffocated by my own body.

Until I realized, that a pair of very clammy and almost steel-like hands had taken me by the neck.

And were strangling me to death.

My eyes shut. I couldn't bring myself to try to fight my assailant. My murderer. I had no more strength within me.

It was also in this moment, that I heard a ferocious, beast-like roar.

It flung itself against the walls, forcing them to echo it in rising intensity as my eardrums nearly exploded.

And just like that, I was freed.

I coughed and spluttered, sucking air back into my deprived lungs.

I sank to the floor, choking back my sobs. I didn't know why I was overcome by tears.

Maybe I was just glad to be able to breathe again.

The bones in my neck felt non-existent. As though, they'd been paralyzed by the iron grip.

Or by the fear I now felt.

A enraged pair of onyx eyes caught my sweeping gaze and I turned away in fright. The monster was being held back by the guards I'd seen previously.

The thumping of my heart became even more audible, and the thing yowled in frustration.

"It's lusting for her blood. What do your Highnesses suggest be done?" An submissive, low voice said.

It was one of the guards, who obviously held the creature back with no effort whatsoever.

The crimson-eyed man sighed in annoyance, appalled at his escort's own foolishness. "Well, what do you think? Take that mangy thing out and get rid of it. It's done it's part. Now, send it on it's way."

He tapped his foot in impatience. The guards nodded and the thing, still screaming in protest, was taken out of sight.

"Are you alright, my dear? Perhaps, letting you be in the same room as a bloodthirsty tracker was not a very wise idea."

I simply stared.

My mind was confused. Jumping from a million different images at once. _What in the world was going on?_

Somehow, I found my parched voice. "What was that?" I asked, my eyes widening.

"Dearest me, you are peculiar. Have your parents taught you nothing?"

He shook his head in dismay and motioned a tall, gypsy-looking woman forward. She complied and her wide ring earrings jangled, as she strode.

"Jiha, please take this young woman to your quarters and get her cleaned up immediately. She can't meet her future husband looking like this."

He laughed a humorless laugh which resonated around me; I wondered why I hadn't fainted yet.

My head was pounding, and the blood was rushing to my ears. This always happened when I was confused.

The woman whose name was Jiha rolled her eyes at his gesture and offered her hand in my direction. I took it in silence.

She led me out of the room into a long corridor. It was more of a tunnel. And it ran in one direction for a good length of distance as I could make out. Jiha pulled me along, firmly but motherly.

"He's right, you know." She said eventually.

I blinked.

"Excuse me? I have not a single notion of where in the world I am and who you people are."

I could barely recognize my own voice. It didn't sound like me.

"Well, if I didn't know any better, I'd say that you were on your way to Italy to be wed, were you not? At least, that's what they tell me." She muttered, irritated.

I blinked again.

"Are you telling me that I'm in Italy...already?"

My head spun.

The drive from that dock in Paris to here would have been at least, a week. They had to be lying.

She read my incredulous stare, shaking her head.

"It's true, alright. Caius placed you into a temporary coma. Honestly, I've never seen him get this worked up over anything in a long, long time."

She turned a corner and stopped to get her bearings before continuing.

"Put me...into a coma?"

I swore I felt a bad taste in my mouth from saying those words.

"Yep, now, quit talking."

She pushed me into a room, and sat me down in front of a huge mirror and dressing table.

I looked at my disoriented expression and took in my messy, unruly hair and the tired circles of darkness lining my brown eyes. I looked old.

As though, being asleep for weeks had aged me by years.

I slumped forward only to be pulled back upright.

"Stop fidgeting and let me get down to business, girl." Jiha said sternly.

_ Just like Mother_.

She studied my appearance as I stared back with weary eyes, already half-drooping from fatigue.

She shook her head a couple of times, but soon started nodding in approval. Soon enough, she was clapping her hands in delight.

I feared she'd be doing a happy jig after this.

Thank goodness, that she didn't.

She seemed far too refined and poised to do that. Stuff which Rita wouldn't have been able to do in a million years.

I smiled at this.

It'd been ages since I'd spared a thought for my family. And a pang of sadness went through me.

As Jiha ran me a hot bath and pushed me behind a changing screen, which was etched with Japanese sakura trees, to get undressed, I realised that I wouldn't see them for awhile.

Or perhaps they weren't coming at all.

I shed a couple more tears when it dawned on me that my fate lay here.

In this unknown place.

In a foreign land.

Suddenly, vivid images of the corpse, the monster, the crimson-eyed man, the man who looked like my father, all of them flew into my mind at lightning speed and disappeared once again.

I was at a loss for what to think.

It was a puzzle which made absolutely no sense whatsoever.

None of what had just taken place was logical.

So, maybe it wasn't at all.

* * *

**Yeah, I know! Super-confusing, ** **isn't it? Anyways, I hope this satisfies. It's really long, you know. I mean, for someone like me. Ok, review:)**


	10. Chapter 10: Twin

_A/N: Before I get boo-ed for not updating, let me just say that I'm blaming sucky exams, writer's block, forgetfulness, procrastination and an insane obsession with The Click Five on why I haven't updated. Oh, and shoes which give my feet bleeding sores. This is short but I'll explain at the bottom. And there's a certain reviewer who you should thank for getting me back into writing this. :3  
_

_P.S. _

_And does everybody not know that The Click Five are going to be in Malaysia in November? Or that Kyle Patrick is so 'effing hot plus cute? Who hear has heard Jenny and not thought it was so addictive to listen to?_

_Ok, fangirl obsession has ended. :D  
_

* * *

I sat down on the soft, upholstered sofa in the corner of my bedroom. Jiha had told me to wait here, that I'd be meeting somebody very special.

"Your father." _Father._

Jiha's words were chilling me to the bone.

Why was my father, of all people, here? Nothing made sense lately. As the minutes on the shining brass clock placed atop the bookshelf nearby ticked away, I felt myself slip away into another consciousness.

I was happily reliving my dance with James, unaware of the searing pain in my heart, when the doorknob started to turn.

Being blissfully cut off from the real world, I nearly lost my balance and fell of the sofa when the stranger from before swept in quietly, in a flurry of grace.

The stranger who resembled my father greatly. Almost twin-like, were it not for those crimson-blood eyes.

The same eyes which now held my glassy gaze.

The stranger was silent. He sat down beside me, never once taking his gaze off me, although I diverted mine to the clock's moving hands. My breathing stayed calm, but my heart was pounding.

"Calm down." Those were his first words.

"I won't hurt you, Suzette."

My eyes suddenly flew to his. I'm sure the look in them must have startled him, because he flinched backwards slightly. It was quick, but I caught it.

"Who are you?"

"Don't you know?" His voice really did make him sound confused.

"No, I don't." I crossed my arms defiantly. "I'd like to know whether what Jiha told me was true. Are you my father?"

He searched my eyes for something which I wasn't quite sure what was, before answering. "Yes, I am."

"You can't be!" My shriek rang out shrill and echoed around the room.

"My father is in England." I whispered feebly.

"I am your father, Suzette." He exhaled. "And it's a long story which your mother probably never told you about." He sat back against the sofa, with a sigh.

It was then, that I realized something extraordinary.

I hadn't seen my father in the longest time that I'd forgotten about how much he should have aged by now. In my mind, he still looked the same as when I was a little girl. But his hair should have grayed even more and wrinkles showing by now. Which would make this stranger into more of a younger version of my father. Impossible. 

He started speaking, his voice warmer than I'd ever known a voice could be.

"Suzette, before I became…" He pointed towards his eyes. The crimson-red eyes of his. "…I was the man your mother loved. And I'm the reason you have your brown eyes." He jabbed a finger at my eyes. I backed away a bit. Something clicked in my mind. I disregarded the rest of what he'd just said momentarily.

"What do you mean by 'became'?"

His expression flickered into exasperation. "Do you mean that you have no idea about what I mean?"

I shook my head, sheepishly. His other words came back to me. If my mother had an affair with this man, it'd be obvious why my _step_-father never wanted to look at me. A whole lifetime of a lost childhood came flooding back to me.

I interrupted him before he could answer my previous question. "Why didn't you want me? Why didn't anyone tell me?"

I kept asking more questions.

"Why do you look so much like him? Why are you telling me this now?"

I could feel tears pricking my eyes. What was wrong with me now?

"Suzette. You must listen. I will tell you everything. But you must promise not to interrupt any longer." He was being stern. The way a father should be.

I nodded but this made a tear slip out. I noticed he looked almost jealous when he saw that. I didn't bother to wonder why.

And so, he told me. Everything.

I remember crying a few times, getting mad, and then, just feeling incredulous. But, by the end of it, he'd convinced me. And I was holding back an insufferable rage at him and my mother.

* * *

**Don't worry. I just realized that things would be a lot simpler if I just wrote a chapter which flashes back about two decades into the past. So you can all read about what really happened, and I hope that clears up all the confusion. I think Suzette should be having a mental breakdown when she hears what happened so having her narrate is a no-no. **

**I'll try and have it done as soon as possible. Ta-ta.**


	11. Chapter 11: Anneliese

_A/N: Yay! I have managed to write another chapter. LOL. Anyways, I hope this clears up all the confusion somewhat. There's still more to be explained, and that'll be in the next chapter. Read & Review. _

"I love you."

The whisper came soft and warm in the overwhelming darkness of the shadows, which lurked behind the stately manor. Standing by the vine-overgrown wall, a pair of lovers embraced, holding onto one another as though this would be their very last moment together.

And perhaps…it was.

The night covers and hides most things, but only from those who don't try to see. Fate was about to cast them into a deadly eternity. But for now, all they knew, all they cared about, was eachother.

The male lover trailed kisses along her neck as she relaxed against the hard surface of the manor's wall. A cool breeze picked up and carried leaves along the ground, which had fallen from the ominous trees, lurking above them.

"I have something to tell you."

The kisses stopped. He brought his face to hers, his dark brown eyes inquiring. "What is it? Has someone become suspicious?"

The woman, who could only have been in her mid-twenties, shook her head. Yet, she started trembling slightly. "No. Nothing like that."

Her voice was quivering and she shivered slightly.

Her lover became alarmed. Pulling her slowly towards him, he wrapped her within his arms and cooed in a comforting voice into her ear.

"It's alright. I won't get mad. Promise."

She gave a small smile, but her mind was far from relieved. "I'm pregnant." She dropped her head. "And it's not his."

He didn't flinch. He just held her in his arms, stroking her hair. "I'm happy."

She looked up at him, her deep blue eyes widening. "You are?"

He smiled. "I am. My brother won't know. He doesn't suspect a thing."

She rested her head on his chest, listening to him breathe. "I trust you."

He lifted her chin and kissed her on the lips. "I know you do."

* * *

"It's a girl!" The midwife called out, as she bundled the newborn up into a warm, woollen blanket.

A man with misty grey eyes came rushing into the room, breathing a sigh of relief.

Outside, another man with dark brown eyes, leant against the wall, a small smile on his face; his features identical to that of the other. Except for their eyes.

Inside the bedroom, Laura Langley lay on the bed, her bedclothes soaked with sweat. But her eyes were fixated on her daughter, whom the midwife was placing into her arms at that instant.

The baby opened her eyes slowly, and looked up at her mother. Laura gasped. The baby's eyes were brown. Dark brown.

The midwife gathered up the soiled sheets and disposed of the dirty water, before bidding goodbye to them.

David Langley knelt beside his wife and smiled. She smiled back, but it was an uneasy one. How her heart prayed that he wouldn't notice. Wouldn't put two and two together.

He looked at the baby and for a second, Laura feared she'd lost everything.

Her life, her other daughters, her family, her reputation, her honor.

But, he kept smiling at the child and rubbed her hairless head. Laura relaxed and they shared a moment which should have belonged to Daniel. The man who stood outside the room, cut off from what was really his.

* * *

_2 years later… _

David was rummaging through his wife's desk, looking for some empty paper when he came upon a loose page. It'd escaped from her diary.

He wouldn't have looked, had the words 'not his baby' not jumped off the page and danced before his eyes. He read the page and dropped to the floor, shell-shocked.

He couldn't believe it. His wife had had an affair.

With his own brother.

His twin brother.

His mind flew back through all the years, and he saw how clear everything was. He had just never thought to see.

How Daniel always seemed just as worried about her when he was.

The way Daniel played with the daughter he thought had been his.

The way Laura would glance at Daniel, and give him a look of love. One she'd never shown to him.

A flare, no, a surge of rage swept through him and he pounded his fist against the wall in a fury. He wouldn't let them get away with this. Daniel was always the one who won.

He owned the company, he'd been born first.

And now, he'd stolen away the love of his own wife.

Bursting with anger, David searched for his revolver, hidden away in the folds of his clothing. He would have his revenge. He didn't care about the consequences.

Although, the consequences would be graver for his brother and the child.

* * *

The clock struck midnight. David crept silently down the halls of his home, and into his brother's room. He'd pretended that he'd be leaving on a business trip that morning.

So, he wasn't surprised to find his wife in bed with his brother.

He could have shot them both. But, he still loved his wife deep down, no matter how much he felt betrayed.

His brother, however, would have to pay.

He stood over the slumbering couple, raised his hand and fired. The shot was loud and clear. It pierced his brother's skin and left a gushing hole of blood. His brother stirred violently and screamed in pain.

He ran from the room then.

And didn't look back.

It happened in a mere instant.

* * *

Inside the room, Laura was sobbing and calling for help. He was bleeding; he was dying.

And she was helpless.

"Oh,God. Please,no."

She tried to stop the blood, but it flowed through her fingers and soaked the sheets red.

"No, Daniel,no."

She didn't know how or why this had happened. She didn't know how someone could have gotten into their home or why. But, whoever it was had shot the love of her life.

She thought that all hope was lost.

Until, she heard the voice.

"You cannot die. The Volturi forbid it. The debt has yet to be paid."

Her head shot up and she saw a cloaked figure standing in the center of the room, observing the pitiful sight. She was at a loss for words.

"We will save his life. But, you must offer us something in return."

She was desperate. She wouldn't let him die, not now. With wet tears streaming down her face, she furtively nodded. "Anything. I'll give you anything."

Unnoticed by the door, little Anneliese stood, watching everything from sleepy eyes.

"Your youngest daughter. She is his child. When she turns 18, you must have her sent to Italy. To Volterra."

The figure paused, but in the chilling moonlight, a deadly smile crept onto his face. "You will never see her again, and neither will you see this man too. All this in exchange for his life."

He took several steps forward. "Is it worth it?"

Unable to speak, Laura closed her eyes and exhaled. "Yes, anything. I will do anything for him."

"Very well."

The figure did a slight turn and suddenly both he and Daniel were gone. They'd vanished into the night.

All that was left was the spreading stain of crimson blood, which had been abruptly stopped.

Looking at the bloody sheets, she couldn't hold it back anymore. She screamed a terrifyingly piercing scream and cried into the pillows.

Anneliese, frightened, fell to the floor and crawled away in fear.

She didn't understand what had just happened, but the scream scared her.

The look on her mother's face made her own blood chill.

What happened that night changed all of their lives forever.

* * *

The deal they'd made with the Volturi had come back to haunt them.

Their firstborn child was to be taken away. Daniel had offered his lifetime servitude in exchange; a lifetime as a vampire.

But saving him from death had added to the bargain.

She'd lost her daughter, anyway.

It was all too much. Too much.

The deal that had been struck to protect Anneliese. The deal meant to keep her from dying young.

Dying from the curse which had plagued every second daughter of the Ergham family for generations.

Laura moaned and sobbed into the night.

It'd all gone wrong.

Horribly, horribly wrong.

**Review:D**


	12. Chapter 12: The Poem

_A/N: Oh,wow! Another chapter. LOL. I'd like to apologize that it's kind of short first, though. The plot will be tied up very soon, so stay tuned. _

_Random Fact About The Click Five: Kyle's favorite color is green, and Ethan shops in the ladies section for his skinny jeans and he's a size 29. OMG. Ok, you can read now. :) _

It was over. My life, all my dreams and my hope, it was all gone. It was all a pretense, a lie.

"Bloody curse." That was all I could say.

I didn't believe there was such a thing.

Then, again.

I hadn't believed in vampires either.

I buried my head in my cottony dress's lap and felt the blood rush towards my brain.

I'd been in love with a vampire. My real father was a vampire. My parents had made a deal with vampires. My half-sister was kept alive because of vampires.

Why did everything have to revolve around vampires?

It was a scary thought. To be in this huge underground castle, surrounded at every corner by vampires.

_Vampires which could kill me at any instant._

The only thing which prevented them from doing so would be Aro's orders, of course. The memory of my first conversation with my real father came back to me.

"They will change you. Make you into one of us."

"Why?"

"To wed you to Marcus. You are to be his bride."

His voice took on a frustrated tone, and I could see he hated the situation just as much as I did.

It seemed that things could only get worse.

Before this, I'd been meant to marry someone I didn't love,yes. But now, I had to marry a vampire I didn't love.

And judging by the way Marcus was described, he seemed incredibly bitter and emotionless.

The only thing which was keeping me from just taking a knife to my wrists and dying was that I'd be able to see James again.

He'd said he'd be meeting friends in Italy. What other friends than the ones here?

I had noticed something peculiar about James, when it came to his appearance, if he was compared to the other vampires here. His eyes were golden honey-colored.

Yet, every vampire I'd seen here had frightening blood-red eyes instead.

I wanted to ask my father about it, but I refrained. I knew I wouldn't be able to say a word about him without having an intense blush creep onto my cheeks.

Because, every time I gave a thought about him, I was reminded of the night on the ship.

And I'd wish that if there was any possible way, that I could stay locked in those moments forever.

But I couldn't.

And those memories would stay exactly what they were.

_Memories_.

Something which could be forgotten, and was forgotten when you became a vampire.

The thought made me want to sob into my skirt, but I knew that if I stayed rooted in the past, I'd become just as much as a shell as Marcus was.

_Poetry_.

That'd always been my way of expressing myself. I'd written thousands of poems, but I'd left them behind. Back home in England.

_Maybe if I wrote a poem… _

I pulled myself up from my curled up state and started searching the windowless bedroom for a piece of paper and a pen.

"No…not here."

I opened several drawers and rummaged through them, before finding some scraps of letter paper. I found a slate, sat down on the cushiony bed, and began to write.

_I'd dream every night,   
Hoping to find,   
Something worth living for,   
I'd see your face,   
But I didn't know   
it was you.   
_

_When I first met you,   
I didn't think,   
That you would   
want me. _

_But you did.   
You chose me   
out of all the others,   
and I fell   
in love with you. _

_Fate was kind,   
And I may have been   
lost to another destiny,   
Yet I met you again,   
And you kissed me   
beneath the stars. _

_I'll cherish that moment,   
I'll treasure it in my heart,   
I know that you have   
forever to forget me,   
and I have   
forever to remember you,   
but   
I know I'll always love you,   
and I hope you know that too. _

When I'd finished writing it, I could barely see the paper. My eyes were too filled with tears.

I lay back against the bed, all my resolve lost. I didn't want to forget how much I loved him.

And I didn't want him to forget me too.

_Although the mind forgets, the heart never does._

I fell asleep, repeating that sentence inside my head.

I woke up to the feeling of something very cold and hard next to me. Like a pillar of marble.

I jerked up in surprise, my eyes flying open. But there was nothing there.

I was alone on the soft bed, and my poem was gone too. Perhaps I'd dreamed it all.

I looked around, on the floor, under the bed, but the poem was gone.

I was still tired and groggy, my eyes were swollen from crying. I went back to sleep and forgot about it all.

**Seriously. I'm sure you all know who was with her on the bed, and why the poem was missing, don't you? Ok. In the next chapter, things are going to get very interesting...**


	13. Chapter 13: Sealed

**A/N:** -shields self from rotten fruit- I AM SO SORRY. I can't believe how long this has been abandoned. ): -offers everyone ice-cream and cookies- I've just had really bad writer's block, and I thought I'd take a really long break to refresh my words. My writing's improved, though. See, while I was on hiatus, I started writing this other non-Twilight FF and got introduced to the concept of _slash_ by my online friends. And I also got around to finally reading all the grown-up novels lying around my room. :D

So, I got inspired by this music I just downloaded last night and wrote this anime one-shot (La Corda D'Oro, if you're interested), and then when I posted it up on Fanfiction, I remembered I still had to finish this. Working off my temporary inspiration, I created chapter 13. :)

There are about two more chapters, after this. I'd write them if I had time (I'm actually procrastinating studying for my O Level exams next week...) tomorrow, but I've got to study. I'll update maybe in June? (Or on my one-year anniversary at the end of May - yep, I'll have been on this site for a year!) But, I'm not going to abandon it again, so do not worry (sorry if I sound like a hypocritical liar since I've done it twice T-T).

* * *

"You know you cannot have her. Why do you still toy with the human?"

The stunningly cruel features of the male vampire who'd spoken, twisted into a grimace. He was cloaked in scarlet red, and his pale skin made the color even more frightening. "If Caius were to know…"

"Is that a threat, Sebastien?" The other vampire to whom the former had been speaking to, asked, his voice bitter. "I _know_ what I can have, and what I cannot."

"Then… why the sudden hostility?" Sebastien smirked, knowing the truth instantly. "This human… she is more than just a plaything, isn't she?" He swooped over to the other, and eyed his companion's defiant face. "Did the frozen heart decide to beat again, _Carlisle_?"

Sebastien narrowly avoided having his face battered by Carlisle's fist. He backed away, but the smirk didn't leave his face. "Not just beat. It's pumping hard."

The blonde vampire known as Carlisle to everyone but the human girl he loved, turned to Sebastien and fixed him with a glare. "I can't stay here. I don't even know why I bothered to come back."

Sebastien chuckled. "Of, course you do. The _girl_. You know who she is. You knew, then too. Still, you didn't stop yourself, did you? Where's the Carlisle I know? The one with such perfect self-control?" He stopped, and licked his lips; an action that would have struck terror in any human, but merely annoyed a vampire who didn't enjoy feasting on humans.

Carlisle didn't answer. He disappeared for a second, and then reappeared, his expression still angry, but slightly defeated. Sebastien rolled his eyes. "Emilia's going to throw a fit at the hole in the wall now."

He flitted over to Carlisle, sighing and becoming serious. "We've been friends a long, long time, Carlisle… and I still want us to be friends. I don't want you in a million pieces and burned to ash. Just forget her. Leave and come back in another 200 years. She'll have forgotten you, by then."

"The pain will still be there." His friend's voice broke.

"We don't feel pain. All the pain leaves the moment the heart stops. Remember that. Now, _go_."

"I'll be back." Carlisle hugged Sebastien, and vanished. He didn't show his friend the note – the poem she'd written for him. The only piece of her which he could take with him.

* * *

I woke up, faint and dizzy. My room's window-less walls were made of cut stone slabs, and the floor was made of wooden parquet, but I knew there was a layer of stone beneath, because it didn't sound hollow the way wood should be. Sad, bleary paintings served to attempt to make the room less depressing, but failed.

_This is what I'll live in for the rest of my eternity?_

Not a happy thought. None of my thoughts could ever be happy again. I needed to be in his arms again. I longed to feel his embrace, no matter if it was cold and hard. He made it warm. I wrapped my arms around myself, and closed my eyes, trying to imagine that it was him.

I was careful not to whisper his name, though. My father had told me that vampires had more acute senses and sharper observations about their environment than humans did. What I thought nobody else could hear if I whispered, might as well have been shouted through every hall in this underground castle.

And then… a breeze of wind came from nowhere and tickled my skin. I opened my eyes.

I gasped involuntarily, my arms dropping to the sheets like dead weight.

"Did I startle you?"

Speechlessly, I nodded.He wasn't James. He was _Marcus_.

_He looks nothing like what I expected._

His dark hair looked soft, in the dim light of the orange flame, inside the only lamp in the room. His eyes were ruby, red like every other vampire here, but strangely they didn't scare me at all. He had a pained expression, and I felt my chest twist into a knot for no reason.

"You're so young."

His gaze became amazingly tender, sending a shiver down my spine.

"I'm only eighteen."

He came closer, and I suddenly felt very self-conscious. "Why are you here?"

My question made him frown. "You don't know who I am?"

I shook my head. "You're Marcus."

"Yes, I'm Marcus."

"Why are you here, Marcus?"

My inner calm surprised me. Indeed, I should have felt horrified, alone in this bedroom, with a tall, blood-thirsty vampire in front of me. But, all I felt was curiosity instead. Somehow, I knew he wouldn't hurt me.

"I want to talk to you."

"Oh."

I'd been sitting up, still under the covers, so I scooted off the centre of the bed, tossing aside the blankets and the spread, to the left side and touched my bare feet to the soundless floor. He slowly came and sat beside me, moving like a shadow did – cutting through the air without a noise, or as much as a ruffle of a sleeve.

"Did your father talk to you already?"

It was a cursory question. Obviously, he should know. He just wanted to make me feel less tense.

"Yes, he did."

He nodded, and came even closer to me, sniffing my neck. I didn't flinch; it was like I was in a dream, and none of this could really hurt me or was real. He was apparently breathing in my scent.

"You smell exactly like her. Ginger with red roses."

"Who do I…?"

"My wife."

His answer made my eyes widen, and much, much worse, made me blush. I glanced away at an empty corner. This was getting more and more surreal.

"Don't be ashamed, Suzette."

His voice made me shiver again. I suddenly felt an ocean of guilt engulf me. _Why did I have these peculiar feelings? Why was I receiving them just from being in his presence? How could I forget about James so easily?_

Without thinking, I replied, "I should be."

As soon as the words left my mouth, did I realize my mistake. His tender gaze evaporated into a cold, furious one.

"No, you shouldn't. He doesn't love you. He took advantage of you!"

The glass protecting me broke, and suddenly I felt fear replacing my guilt. Fear for James' life. My father had told me about how powerful the Volturi were. And how easy it was for them to destroy whoever crossed their path in the wrong way. _Even a fellow vampire._

I could see the rage in Marcus' eyes. "How do you know about that?" I asked in a weak voice. I wanted to tell him it wasn't true. James loved me, he still did. That kiss was real. But I didn't know how he would react if I denied it.

"Aro knows everything the moment he touches you. _I saw for myself_, anyway."

My father's words came back to me, once more: "_All Aro has to do is shake your hand, and he'll know all your memories, even the forgotten ones."_

"_What about Marcus?"_

"_Marcus sees relationships."_

He knew. He knew about James from the start. They all did. Marcus knew about James, and still he showed me affection. _Perhaps he cares more for me than I thought…_

"Don't hurt him. Please." I begged desperately. _Maybe I could convince him…_ "If anything were to happen to him…"

And then, I burst into tears. So sudden, that I knew Marcus was taken aback immediately. The pained expression he'd had before returned.

And then, I was in his arms, still sobbing into his chest. His hand was stroking my hair, and his other hand was wiping away my tears. "Don't cry anymore. He will be safe."

I put my own hand on his hand which was wiping my tears, not feeling the coldness. "Promise me."

"I promise you, my Suzette."

I knew what I had to do. I had to seal the deal, and guarantee James' safety. Slipping his hand around my waist, the same way James had done, I put my own hand on his pale neck, and lay my lips on the hollow beneath his Adam's apple.

I felt his grasp on me tighten. He lay me back down on the bed, and I closed my eyes, knowing what was coming.

**REVIEW! :) (yes, I know I'm so mean for not giving more details...)**


	14. Chapter 14: Assurance

**A/N:** I'm failing my Geography exam on Friday for this, but never mind. :) There's a bit of PG-18 stuff (well, not really, if you read adult novels) in the first few paragraphs. Just a heads up. And I'm a serious stalker with my stats page, so when I see hits go up, and get no reviews, I feel very sad/pissed off. :( Please just say a few words! Mean, or anything, or what, just say it. (I've changed my settings so now you can leave all your nice anonymous reviews too.) An advanced thank you to anyone who does review! :)

* * *

When I awoke, Marcus had gone, and I was underneath the bedspread. My dress, corset and camisole were on the floor. I remembered last night, and suddenly, I felt his cool touch all over me once more. I had cried, because at first, there had been a searing pain, and then, it'd faded… and I'd started moaning instead.

An intense blush overcame me, and I realized, however reluctantly, that not only did I no longer have my virginity, I'd enjoyed losing it. Marcus had been so gentle – there wasn't a single bruise on me. I was only sore where it couldn't be helped, if it was your first time.

I wrapped the bedsheets around me, and went to pick up my clothes. Pulling the sheets aside, I saw a very red blood-stain on the mattress, and felt a sudden chill go through me. _How could he still control himself when I'd already bled like that?_

Feeling light-headed, I slipped my dress back on, and braided my hair back. I needed to take a bath, but I was afraid to leave the room. So I went looking for my poem again. With everything that had happened, I'd almost forgotten I'd ever written it. _No, that's not true…the poem's still with me. It's here, inside my heart._

I couldn't find it, still. Then, a knock on my door made me jump, since the room had been so deathly silent. It was Jiha. She took one look at my messy state, and though I'd covered the stain with the bedsheets, it seemed she already knew. "I'll clean it later. For now, miss, I'll draw you a bath first."

She closed the door, but came back within ten minutes. I followed her out, and she brought me back to the bathroom I'd used when I first arrived. The bathtub was filled to the brim with warm, steaming water and she'd laid a new dress out for me – freshly pressed too – and new underclothes. I was grateful for that.

She left me alone, and I undressed and dipped into the water. Later, feeling calmer and cleaner, I put on the dress. It was pink as rosebud and had sleeves which fell over my wrists so lightly, it felt like air. I had to braid my hair once more, because I'd used some of the olive oil in a jar nearby, and rubbed it into my hair.

Eventually, Jiha came back, and I saw her genuinely smile when she saw how I looked. "He will be pleased. They will all be pleased." She simply said, and beckoned me to follow her, like she always did.

* * *

When Marcus kissed the top of my hand, I had to look away from his eyes. And my tiny action, made the whole room of vampires, though they were still silent, erupt into laughter. I could see it in their eyes. I felt very sure that everyone knew what happened between us, and it made me embarrassed.

Aro sighed, and dismissed most of them, annoyed at their behaviour. Only he, Marcus, Caius, and another vampire named Sebastien, who hadn't laughed but had looked a bit curious instead, remained. My father had been sent on an assignment, to Venice. Knowing this made me anxious, but Marcus' kind kiss had reassured me.

Aro snapped his fingers, and Sebastien came forwards with a small vial of clear liquid, and poured it into a goblet. He mixed it with some water and a bit of salt, stirring until Aro nodded in satisfaction. Marcus picked it up and gave it to a slightly puzzled me.

"What's this for?"

"It will make you sleep for three days." Caius answered.

"But…" I was interrupted by Aro. "Today is your last day as a human."

The words hit me like stones, and I suddenly felt my knees weaken. "Oh."

"Drink it. It will take effect within the hour." Marcus said, and I felt myself split in a million places. His voice was cold and emotionless. The goblet slipped from my hands, but Sebastien caught it before it could even spill a drop.

He handed it back to me, and I drank it, but my hands were trembling; because after all the love I'd been given by Marcus, and then hearing his voice be so empty and void like that… it wasn't natural at all. I downed every last bit of the solution. It was very taste-less, despite the salt.

Satisfied, Caius and Aro left immediately, and Sebastien bowed before leaving too. I was alone with Marcus, once again. He turned my chin upwards to him, but I shook his fingers off. I was still upset from the way he'd sounded, just now. He sighed, and pulled me into his embrace, though I futilely resisted.

"Suzette."

"Why did you talk like that? It's not you."

"It's not the Marcus _you_ know. It's the Marcus I've been for the past four hundred years."

"Cold and stiff."

"Yes."

"But… last night…"

"That is the Marcus I am now, yes, Suzette. Your presence is the sweetest joy I've had to live without for so long. I see hope when I see your face."

"Then why did you…?"

"The Volturi have ruled under the mask of being without emotion for so long, Suzette. We have enemies, despite our power, who still challenge us. I must act that way, in court, if we are to remain feared."

He started to stroke my cheek.

"To keep you safe, no one can know the extent of my love for you so publicly. The whole room of the Volturi Guard saw the way you couldn't meet my eyes. That can never happen again. I must be cold to you, should our paths cross in public."

I pulled his hand away from my cheek, and slid out of his grasp.

"But, privately…?"

I surprised him, and I saw it cross his face. Then he smiled, and he looked like a glowing angel, to me. He pulled me back to him, and kissed me on the lips, as if he never wanted to let go. It felt like magic, and it was just different from the way James and I had kissed.

When I had shared my first kiss with James, I'd been a girl with fantasy notions of romance. Now, as Marcus kissed me, I was a woman who'd been loved before. And, after awhile, I started to feel faint. His kisses were making me breathless.

"Marcus." I whispered. He stopped as soon as I said his name, and then my eyes closed, as I realized the drink was starting to affect me. I remember being in his arms, as he carried me back to a bedroom, and falling into the darkness, just as a sharp pain began flowing through my neck.

* * *

The medicine would spare her the gruesome pain which came with the transformation. He wouldn't have been able to stand her screams and cries, otherwise. It was good he had taken her when she was still warm; it was different to feel warmth against him, after being so frozen for so long. He had been very careful with her.

But there had been so many times when he had come close to just wanting to bite and break her skin, draining her life and her warmth. It was the memory of his dear Anastacia, which made him strong enough to resist the temptation.

_She's colder than she should be. Her eyes don't see. Her life has been taken. No, no, no, NO! She cannot be dead. Ana, please. Open your eyes! Look at me! Say you won't go. I'm sorry I didn't bring you the flowers you wanted, yesterday! Please, Ana. Please forgive me._

Anastacia Ergham. Her murderers did not stop with only her death. They had been soothsayers; they cursed her family, and made it such that the second daughter born to the third daughter in each generation, for that had been Anastacia's original family position, die upon the day she reached her twenty-first birthday.

The Volturi did not know about this curse, and as such, the family suffered for the past four hundred years, a daughter lost, everytime the stipulation was fulfiled. And then, one day, a young man had asked around Volterra, asking how he could _meet the Volturi_, to all the humans in the city. He'd been roughly taken aside by the guards, asking him how he knew such things.

He'd heard of them, stories mostly, but that they had special abilities, and could do supernatural things. The guards had meant to kill him, but Alec had ordered them to bring him for an audience with the Volturi, first.

And that was when the news of the curse finally reached them.

They had the means to thwart the curse, but they couldn't let this human know the connection they had to the family, and furthermore, nothing was ever free with the Volturi. The man offered money and riches, but they already had their spoil of the best. But… a wife for Marcus, or a new addition to the guard would be more profitable. So they asked of his firstborn child, instead.

"When the daughter reaches her twenty-first birthday, and is spared, you must send your eldest child, no matter the age, to us."

The man had hesitated. "Is there anything I can offer besides that? I'd offer my life in exchange for my child's."

They had exchanged looks. The Volturi may have been cruel to humans, but they respected sacrifice.

"Very well. When the daughter turns twenty-one, you must return here and start your lifetime service in our guard."

The man had signed the contract drawn up, and left, glad to have good news for the love of his life, but remembering that one day, when the little girl, who was now only two years old, turned twenty-one, he would have to give up everything he'd ever known.

Still, he would have done anything for the woman he loved.

Sebastien had been sent to monitor the man, and one night, a bloody love affair had come to light, and left him dying, adding another term to the deal. Sebastien had offered to save his life, for an extra price. In truth, the Volturi would not have let him die, but the woman had not thought clearly, in her desperation, and agreed to anything.

This was how Suzette became theirs.

And despite having been tainted by Carlisle's touch before she reached Volterra, she had readily taken to Marcus, in a most unexpected way. It seemed she really had affection for him.

Marcus had been ready to stay away from her for as long as she needed, before she was ready to love him, and although she still had love for Carlisle, she also had love for Marcus now.

He had wanted to test her, before. That was why he had pretended to be detached and icy when he spoke. If she truly cared for him, hearing his voice so dead would shock her. And it did. She had dropped the goblet. She had been upset with him.

Now, as he watched her doze, so peacefully, as the venom spread in her veins and arteries, slowly replacing the blood running within her, and turning her solid, and cold, he cupped her cheek and kissed her again, before her warmth was lost forever.


	15. Chapter 15: Summer

**A/N: **Ok. I feel bad for getting on people's cases for not reviewing, so I apologize. But it's hard when you see hits rise and rise and rise, and you get absolutely no feedback. Anyway, this is the second-last chapter. It was supposed to be the last one, but I decided to drag it out into another chapter so this one wouldn't become so long. And because I know I have one reader who really likes reading my story (yes, you Krystle!). :)

* * *

_The year 1988, May 14__th_.

I can hear the sounds of birds cooing and calling to one another, as they begin their morning, and though my eyes are closed, I can feel the sunlight from the open window on my skin, turning it glowing crystal, like a colorless kaleidoscope. I turn over and brush my hand along his side, with a smile on my lips.

He laughs and tickles my stomach, making me giggle but I don't push him away. This is how I spend every morning. Nestled beside him, his hands holding my body, and we pretend that we were asleep all night, and are just waking up, when we weren't. Vampires can't sleep. But that just means I never have to waste a moment of the nights we spend together, so close and safe.

I open my eyes, and gaze back into those same maroon-colored eyes I awoke to, that day, many years ago, when I had my last dreams, and became his forever. He nuzzles my neck, and I breathe in the scent of his dark hair, so similar to mine. And then, I hear the bells and know he must go, now.

He kisses me fondly on the lips, and I squeeze his hand, as he gets up from the bed, and slips on the dark robe he wears everyday, as usual, and whispers so softly to me, "Until tonight, my Suzette."

I nod, and smile. He disappears. I open my wardrobe and pick out something to wear from a collection of custom-made dresses, by a local Italian designer. Today, I choose a satin cobalt blue one, with a lace lining underneath, and an intricate-looking pattern of butterflies along the hem of the skirt, in shades of turquoise thread.

It has long sleeves, but slides down to reveal my shoulders when I wear it. The hem is knee-length, and I'm glad that the current fashion is no longer the long and trailing dresses of my youth. I slide a pair of ballet flats onto my feet, which became so refined and dainty-looking, not big and unseemly, when I turned into a vampire.

My hair is still long and flowing, and I know I will never cut it, because it wouldn't be able to grow back. I sit in front of my dresser, look into the mirror, and brush my hair slowly, studying my appearance. _Maybe I will wear it down, instead of braiding it today_.

The sunshine touches my skin and I see it sparkle, an occurrence which still surprises me, occasionally. Outside, the day is starting to perk up, and I hear the school-children, happily babbling away to one another in Italian and their mothers shooing them along. The sound of the fresh produce market-sellers setting up their stalls, and filling their stands with cabbages and apples reaches my ears too.

I'd been wrong when I'd thought I would spend my eternity, underground, without sunlight or fresh air, or the sound of daily life, ever again.

Although the Volturi's main chambers are underground, beneath the city of Volterra, there are bedrooms and quarters above ground, as well. Marcus had brought me to this room, the very first night I'd lived as a vampire, and I'd been so enthralled to see the stars and the night sky once again.

Silently, I open a drawer of my dresser, and withdraw a tattered and weathered old letter, the paper yellow, but the ink still bright. The only letter I'd ever received from my mother and sisters. Every morning, I re-read it. It's the only way I can ever feel close to them, knowing they have all passed long ago.

_To our dearest, most beloved Suzette,_

_My darling daughter, this is your loving mother. I terribly regret my distant-heartedness and my severe treatment of you, all these years. I didn't want to love you so much, that I wouldn't be able to let you go when the time came. _

_Now, I realize I should have shown you all the love you ever desired, because I will never see you again, as horrible as it sounds. I remember your sweet, sad face the day of your departure. My baby Suzette, you are so brave. As brave as your father was. _

_If you ever should meet your father, please tell him I never stopped loving him. He has always had my heart, despite the years which will distance us even more. _

_With all my love and blessings, _

_your dear Mother._

_Suzette, my lovely younger sister, this is Rita. I know you've always thought me air-headed, and narcissistic, but I never let my real side show through. When you were still a tiny tot, and could barely walk, I would pick you up and throw you in the air to make you laugh. You were such a happy child. _

_Dear sister, I never knew any of what your true fate was until it was too late. Please forgive me for not having been a more affectionate elder sister than I was, all those years you were growing up. _

_Praying for you always,_

_your elder sister Rita._

_Oh, Suzette. I hardly know how to begin my letter. There are so many things to be said, so much forgiveness and thanks to be asked and given. Truly, my sister, there is no other person who could be as selfless and brave as you have been and are. I read and read and read about heroines and heroic deeds, but I could never do such things. _

_You, my little sister, are my heroine. I would've died, had you not paid the ransom on my life. I cannot express the amount of thanks and how eternally grateful I am to you, in just one letter. I wish to hug you and see you again! _

_My little sister, I was there the night that deal was made. I knew all these years, that one day you would leave us. Yet, I never made light of it, and I tried to forget and bury it, until that night when you danced with that stranger, and I knew. I knew what he was, and who he was. He was there to take you away. _

_I thought we could protect you, save you. But Mother sent you away, and I knew we were powerless. I live with a shadow now, knowing that I am free, and you are not, my sister. Please forgive me. I am so sorry for taking your life. I am so sorry. You'll always be my little sister, and you'll always be loved by all of us. _

_Ever faithful and grateful to you,_

_your elder sister Anneliese._

It'd been sent two months after I'd changed, so I could cry no tears, eventhough I felt them inside me, clawing at my insides, begging to be released. This letter has comforted me throughout the centuries, and still will in the centuries to come.

I fold the letter up again, for the infinite time, and place it gently back into the drawer in it's original envelope. The figure in the mirror resembles a china doll with sulphuric eyes.

I could never keep myself from feeling the guilt of feeding on innocent life, so Marcus had told me that I could feed on animals, instead of humans. He brings me to the forests bordering the city, every week, but sometimes, I still feed on humans, because the temptation is far too great and their scents are so inviting.

This is why I have a mixed eye-color. This is how I know that the vampire I once loved so desperately fed only on animals. My first love, who never told me his real name, and whose existence I had thought to protect by sleeping with Marcus.

_Will I ever see _you _again?_

I close my eyes, and I see us on the ship's deck once again, the only light being the moon's glow, and the only sound is the noise of the lower deck celebrations. No girl can ever forget her first kiss.

The sun rises higher in the powdery blue sky outside, and the world moves by, leaving me untouched. When you've gained immortality, it seems nothing the world takes or gives can affect you anymore. You're a spectator to the rest of civilization; someone who will give testament to histories past, one day in a future, where the past may no longer resonate in anyone's mind but yours.

But I have only one wish – one unsatisfied longing inside me. I want to see Carlisle.

- - -

A knock on the room's door breaks my thoughts, and I answer with a small, "Come in."

It is who I've been expecting - Emilia and Cassandra. They are Caius and Aro's wives, respectfully. Emilia is stunningly beautiful, with a smile and a face that could've launched a thousand ships to war, as the famed beauty of Helen of Troy did. She sometimes jokes, and says that she _is_ related to Helen of Troy, because she was originally a Grecian native.

Her hair is like the golden strings of a harp - it falls so smoothly down her shoulders. Her eyes are slanted in a way which makes them appear both alluring and innocent. Her lips are full, and perfectly-shaped.

Cassandra is a polar opposite, for her beauty is so sharp and pronounced, that you find it hard not to stare. The shade of her hair-color is a mixture of burnt sienna and apple-red, the natural highlights in just the right lengths and places. Her eyes are wide and inviting, but also exhibit an air of caution. When she smiles, it is as if you have been in darkness all your life, and are suddenly thrust into the glare of midday sun.

She doesn't tell me much about her previous life. She did once mention that her mother had been a mistress to a king, and I assume that it explains her unnaturally beautiful looks. Cassandra isn't as relaxed and as easy-going as Emilia is, just as Caius is not as laid-back and frivolous as Aro is.

Each half must have balance, you could say.

Emilia flutters in like a hummingbird and pinches my cheek, in delight. "Susie, Susie, Susie." She likes to call me that – Susie. "What do you think we should do today?" She asks, as Cassandra seeps in, slowly and surely, her plum-burgundy dress billowing around her as she moves. She sits on my bed and mutters wistfully, "We can't go and play today, Emilia.'

"And why not, Cassie? I'm game for a little show-and-faint in the square. Last time, I made all those children drop like flies into a fish's mouth." She declares proudly – and by children meaning teenaged boys – as she walks to the window and looks down below.

Anyone passing by will think she is a ghostly mirage, because the sun is making her sparkle and shimmer so brightly, combined with her luminescent hair and her beauty, and I will not be the least surprised, if later today, there is news of a sighting of the Virgin Mary from a supposedly deserted house's bedroom window.

I roll my eyes, and pull her away from the window before someone decides to put their hand up to shield their eyes from her glare. "Emilia!" I say reproachfully. She only laughs, and it sounds like piano keys being lightly tapped on the highest notes.

Cassandra shakes her head. She seems a bit more serious and glum today, than usual. "_Emily_, Carlisle is coming for a visit today. Don't you want to meet his wife?" She says it so softly, but I still hear it.

Now I know why she is so dejected.

Cassandra can see people's hearts for what they really are. She calls it a curse, not a gift, because she can see when someone lies, when someone has revenge and murder in them, when someone is being eaten up by guilt… when someone's heart is broken. I stare at her, and she nods.

Both of them know what Carlisle is to me, but only Cassandra knows how deep it once was. She sighs and stands up, comes close to me and hugs me. "He had to find someone, one day, didn't he?" I say nothing. "You have to let go, and let it be, Suzette. I've seen too many hearts die from this, too many times." She's insistent in her plea. I know she's right.

"I know, Cassandra." I breathe, but don't suck in any air. "I know." She looks at me, and I know she is searching my heart, to see if I really do _know_. "I just have to see him one last time. I just need to say goodbye."

She's still searching. Emilia comes and hugs me, from behind. "Susie, Susie, Susie. My first love was nothing such as the likes of Carlisle. He never loved me the way I did him, and still I could not forget him, for so long."

Cassandra stops searching – and smiles. I haven't seen her smile and mean it, in quite awhile. "Le coeur est prêt à vivre encore."

"Since when do you speak French, Cassandra?" I ask, surprised. Emilia smirks, and starts to whistle.

"J'étais Français né." She replies, simply. Unfortunately, I never bothered to study French, like Anneliese had done.

"Don't pay any attention to her, Susie. But I _know_ what she said, so let's go meet the happy couple now, shall we?" Emilia says it so brightly, that I try to smile for her, but it's hard to do so.

Cassandra smiles reassuringly again, and I see that she really does want to see me happy. But, I have no idea at all how I might feel seeing him, after it's been so long. And that he's happily in love with someone else.


	16. Chapter 16: Truth

A/N: Finally. After how many months, we're at the end of the story. Sorry for such a long wait! Hope you all enjoyed what you read, and look out for whatever I decide to do next. Oh, and a special thanks to all supporters of this story from the beginning, and to all supporters who joined later as well, and to my friend Maida, who couldn't wait to get her hands on this chapter, that she had me e-mail it to her, when I was done. :)

* * *

The chiseled stone walls are as cold as we are, and as the sunlight of the world above fades away into the sepia glow of the electric lamps – an invention that would've made the corridors of the underground castle so much less scarier when I'd first been brought there – I feel a thin chill run through my bones.

I realize it is fear.

Fear of not knowing, fear of what I might find, and fear of what I might not be able to handle.

It's a weird feeling for a vampire to experience fear. Fear is mainly a human emotion, and like pain, fear is usually left behind when someone changes. After all, fear stems from the knowledge of having pain inflicted on one.

But vampires feel little, even as their senses are heightened and sharpened.

_I'm afraid of having my heart feel pain again._

There's wound that Carlisle had left behind long ago, which had healed into a scar, but it was a scar easily bruised, and when stirred enough, it opened. And when opened, my heart pours out all it's hope and strength… and I feel as if I'll die.

Death is another thing which incites fear.

_I'm afraid I might die if I see him again._

My feet keep moving, step by step, we – Cassandra, Emilia and I – walk slowly down the staircase leading to the chambers below, but I wish I could just climb back upwards, where my heart is safe to continue it's simple, cocooned solace, wrapped in the thread of Marcus' love.

But that cannot be. It's a foolish thought, I tell myself. If I don't face this fear now, I shall wallow in the desperate longing I've kept for the past two centuries, for another two centuries again.

I sigh, and my two companions turn to look at me. Cassandra has an affectionately sympathetic expression. She understands my inner turmoil. Emilia takes my hand, and squeezes it.

"It'll be alright, Susie. He's just a boy."

She giggles at this, and so does Cassandra. I afford a small smile. It's as if we're all young debutantes and there's a suitor at the door for me. _A suitor…that's what I once thought he could be._

We continue walking and when we reach the foot of the stairs, Emilia lightly taps the door at the bottom – newly replaced with a more modern wood design – four consecutive times, pauses, and then snaps her fingers twice.

That's what a human would observe.

In fact, she whispers a code-word in a breath only low enough for the guards on the opposing side to hear. The secret word and ritual performed by anyone wanting to enter, is different for everyone.

For us, however, as the queens of the Volturi, we have a long one to do and each of us has a different word to use, but when we are all together – as we usually are – we use another word.

This is the word that Emilia uses now.

It lets the guards know beforehand, as they have to be prepared in a bow when we enter. There's an answering rap on the door, telling us that they're ready. Emilia smirks, and pushes the door open lightly.

She always loves to be the centre of attention.

Of, course she walks out first, passing the two parallel lines of four guards on either side, who bow in the Volturi style, which is with their dark cloaks swooping out from one side. Cassandra follows next. I, being the youngest, then sidle out slowly.

Though their faces are to the ground, I know they're stealing hurried glimpses of us. I even hear the slightest choked gulp from one of them as I enter. This glorified feeling is another thing I took awhile to get used to, when I was first changed.

It's peculiar to have thought yourself ugly as a human, and then to strike open desire and lust into male vampires once turned. The sensation of knowing that they cannot even conceal their want is empowering, in a way.

We finish our walk of honor, and turn into the right-hand corridor, departing from the sight of the guards, and I listen for the soft moans that always follow. There are several. Emilia's smirk grows wider, and Cassandra just shrugs.

This rite may seem a little extravagant, but we rarely visit the underground world, and prefer to spend our time, where we can still feel the presence of the sun, and watch the stars. When we do come down here, it is usually only on very special occasions, such as this one.

_Meeting a foreign guest…whose very gaze may render me crippled. _

"I heard his wife's been married before, as in, the past. Jiha even mentioned that she had a baby who died."

Emilia's voice resounded clearly, and Cassandra nodded in agreement.

"When the baby died, she flung herself from a cliff in despair. That's when she was changed by Carlisle."

"How tragically romantic, don't you think so?"

"Say, isn't there more talk that Carlisle has more new friends than just the one he brought along with him?"

"Oh, yes! Five of them, to be exact."

"Five? I can only imagine."

"Well, you don't need to. I hear they're within the city's boundaries, but decidedly aren't visiting our ancient castle. Never mind. We'll catch them later, but out of sight, of course."

"Emilia. Do you really have to be such a nosy cat about these things?"

Their conversation continues on, filled with mild laughter and reprieves, but I hear no more of it. I'm too engrossed in thinking about how to keep myself from shivering at the sight of his golden eyes.

We will not meet them, face-to-face. Emilia plans on watching the formal introduction through a peephole in the wall, with us taking turns at intervals. I swear she must've been a mischievous genius as a child, to be a criminal mastermind now. Figuratively-speaking, though.

The closer we get to the throne room, the harder it is for me to keep from crossing my arms and biting my lip. I'm so filled with anticipation that my heart just wants to jump out of my chest, so it can avoid dealing with my bundle of nerves. Cassandra throws me a reassuring glance, and Emilia squeezes my hand again.

I nod absently.

Finally, after what seems to have been days, we reach the chamber, and assume our positions at the peephole. Emilia peeks through, and muffles a squeal of excitement. Cassandra shushes her furtively.

"What do you see, Emily?"

"She's a very sweet-looking thing, that's for sure."

Cassandra rolls her eyes, knowing that Emilia will not give her a straight answer anymore, and that we will have to wait our turns to see them for ourselves. Emilia frequently coos and fawns over whatever she's watching, and eventually, Cassandra, tired of having to wait patiently, brushes Emilia aside, and looks through.

"Oh, you're right. She is very angelic-like. She has a face only the kindest of mothers would have." Cassandra pauses, and then lets out a groan.

"Goodness, I'll have to scold Aro for his rudeness later. He just asked her about her ex-husband!"

Emilia sputters laughter, and I tap my feet wanting to take a look too, my anticipation becoming impatience. "Cassandra?"

She waves me off, like you would a child, and I realize that she's forgotten about me entirely. What can be so interesting about this woman that they can't tear their eyes away?

_Well, if she weren't so interesting, Suzette, would you have thought her worthy of his love?_

The little voice in my head has a way of making me eat my words, all the time.

At last, though, Cassandra motions for me to come over, and I do. She withdraws from the hole, and I glance through, suddenly afraid.

My breath catches, and my body turns frozen stiff.

_Those eyes – those deliciously, melted honey eyes. _

He's smiling, as he always did. Something unfamiliar stirs up inside of me, and I know it's the scar re-opening. He hasn't changed, not at all. But the look of love he used to give me, the one I remember so well… it's not for me anymore.

It is for her.

Both of their comments from before are indeed very accurate. She has a smooth, rounded face, slightly off from the usual angular shape that vampires usually acquire during the change. Her eyes are glistening, even in the light of the lamps, and I can see they are the same deep, golden color as Carlisle's.

My eyes are not golden. They are sulfur.

This revelation makes the wound ache and deepen, even more.

_She does not kill, like you do, Suzette. She can control herself; she is innocent. This is why Carlisle loves her._

I bite my lip, and feel the swelling in my chest – a burning feeling, one which can only be released by shedding tears… but unfortunately, vampires don't cry – erupt like a fire. When I see him look at her, I see something in his eyes that I never saw when he looked at me.

A look of utter devotion – one that says he would die for her, if need be.

This is the last straw. I can take no more. The burning intensifies. I turn my head away from the sorrowful sight, and cover my eyes with my hand. I'm weeping, the way vampires do – soundless and dry.

Cassandra pulls me close, and I bury my head in her shoulder. Emilia rests her head on my back, and we stand there. Three stunningly beautiful angels, in the dimly-lit stone corridor, huddled together.

Eventually, I straighten myself, and regain my composure, but all I want to do now is to fling myself off a cliff, like she once did, and hope I die so that he can save me.

_But that's not possible. That won't happen, Suzette. Stop being delusional._

The last command breaks me in two. I shudder and fall to the ground. They catch me before I can even stoop an inch.

"Suzette, let's go. We'll go now. Come on, Cassandra."

They lead me along, and we find an unguarded guest room door. Emilia twists the knob, and opens it. We all squirm and find our way inside. Cassandra switches the lamps on, and Emilia sits me down on the bed, as she kicks the door shut.

I lie on the bed, head buried in the pillow. Emilia strokes my hair, trying to comfort me, but not knowing how. Cassandra is silent.

"Suzette."

When she finally speaks, her voice is strained, but fervent.

I don't acknowledge her call. It is just as I have said. The wound will drain me of everything, and then I'll die.

"Susie," she tries a different approach, "it seems as if you are going to die, doesn't it?"

I don't say anything, still.

"Oh, Susie, if you had experienced this first as a human, this wouldn't be so hard. Everything's always more intense as a vampire."

I am mute, but my wound swells even more.

"It is a truly horrible and devastating feeling, my dear. Rejection is plainly the worst of all emotions." She draws a breath, and I sense her come closer and sit on the bed. "But it does not kill anyone's spirit, unless they let it."

"I didn't know I could still feel this, Cassandra. I didn't know I still loved him so much." My voice cracks.

"Shhh now," she whispers, "this feeling is temporary, that is the good news. You must not think of him, or the look in his eyes. You must forget that he loved you, because as much as he may have done before, he does not anymore."

"B-but, Cass-"

"It is possible, Susie. And remember, although you cannot have Carlisle's love… you have Marcus. He loves you like no other, as much as he loved Anastacia, his first wife."

Upon the mention of Marcus' name, the burning starts to quell, and simmer. The memory of all those nights of love, fills my heart and the wound begins to close itself. I bring my hand to my chest, and my breathing slows, and becomes more natural.

Slowly, but surely, the pain dissolves into nothing but a void – a void that can only be filled by Marcus' touch. I need to feel his touch, hear his voice. And I need it _now_.

I know it has been hours, by the time I finally bring myself to sit up from the bed, but time does pass differently for vampires. Emilia hugs me, immediately. "Are you alright, now?"

I nod, and Cassandra embraces me too.

"What time is it?" I ask.

"Almost night-fall," Emilia answers, "we should go back now."

We fix the room up quickly, and slip out into the corridor. Making our way back to our quarters, Emilia dismisses any guards she sees, as I have no strength for any formalities to take place.

Once we're safely back above ground, and I'm back in my room, my two friends bid me good-night, as they have to get back to their rooms as well.

"Will you be okay, until Marcus arrives?"

Cassandra doesn't need an answer, but she still asks me, anyway.

"I'll manage." I say, meekly.

They both nod grimly, and leave. I'm alone again. Outside, I hear the evening descend, as people walk home, talking amongst themselves, and the sounds of an occasional vehicle passing by drum them out momentarily.

I lie back against my bed's pillows, and sigh sadly, closing my eyes. "_Marcus._"

"Yes, my sweet angel?"

I should be startled, at the very least. But I am not. I am only deeply relieved. I open my eyes. He's standing at the foot of the bed, gazing at me.

_His gaze._

I almost weep again, but from joy. The look he is giving me is pure and honest. It says, "_I love you more than life itself. I'd die for you. I will love you to the ends of time. You are the only one my heart desires._"

He sees my reaction, and he's instantly by my side. "What's wrong, my Suzette?"

I shake my head, undo the clasp of his cloak and take it off him, leaving him in his white under-shirt and dark-blue pants. I guide his hands to my shoulders, and he takes the hint, sliding my dress-sleeves all the way down my arms.

All I want is to feel his touch all over me. To have his lips graze mine, and to hear him say he loves me. This is all I need for the wound to heal. This is all I need for the scar to disappear.

As I reach to undo his shirt buttons, he stops me gently. "My love, what is the matter? Tell me, please." He brings my hand to his lips, and kisses it.

"Nothing is wrong, Marcus. Everything's right." I say, in a voice filled with quiet peace.

He looks at me, and I really do wish to cry tears of complete and utter happiness, then and there. When he sees my expression change, his face falls. I know he's upset. He's misreading my reaction.

He thinks that seeing Carlisle again has made me long for him instead. He thinks I don't want him, or his love, anymore. _Oh, how untrue!_

"No, my love, it's not what you think."

I draw him closer, and kiss his mouth, until his lips part. His natural response inclines him to push me back against the bed, and run his hands along the length of my body. I grasp his shoulders, to keep him from breaking the kiss.

But eventually, he does.

"Tell me what you want, my Suzette, my darling."

I smile at him, and stroke his cheek. "Tell me you love me."

"I love you, my Suzette. I love you so much, that only heaven knows just how deep my love could run if it were a river. You're the only reason for happiness in my life."

His eyes, they shine as he says this. And I know that my one true love lies right here, as he always has. He's been right here, all along.

"Thank you, my husband."

It is the very first time I've called him that.

"My wife," he says, nuzzling my neck, "you always surprise me."

_This is where I belong. In the arms of a man who truly loves me; in the embrace of a man I truly love._

**The End**


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